"Ay—yes—da-a-am clever!" echoed Levi.
"Not as much green as you'd put your finger on—I tell you—no muff—devilish good lay, as you shall see," continued Goldshed.
"Devilish good—no, no muff—nothing green," repeated Mr. Levi, lighting his cigar. "Good head for speculation—might be a bit too clever, I'm thinking," and he winked gently at his governor.
"Believe you, my son, if we'd let him—but we won't—will we?" drawled Mr. Goldshed, jocosely.
"Not if I knows it," said Mr. Levi, sitting on the table, with his feet on the stool, and smoking towards the wall.
CHAPTER VI.
MR. DINGWELL ARRIVES.
Messrs. Goldshed and Levi owned four houses in Rosemary Court, and Miss Sarah Rumble was their tenant. The court is dark, ancient, and grimy. Miss Rumble let lodgings, worked hard, led an anxious life, and subsisted on a remarkably light diet, and at the end of the year never had a shilling over. Her Jewish landlords used to pay her a visit now and then, to receive the rent, and see that everything was right. These visits she dreaded; they were grumbling and minatory, and enlivened by occasional oaths and curses. But though it was part of their system to keep their tenants on the alert by perpetual fault-findings and menaces, they knew very well that they got every shilling the house brought in, that Miss Rumble lived on next to nothing, and never saved a shilling, and was, in fact, their underfed, overworked, and indefatigable slave.