She hesitated.
"Give the man hish money, woman, ca-a-ant you?" bawled Mr. Levi fiercely, and extending his arm toward the bed.
"You had better—yes, ma'am, the money belongs to Messrs. Goldshed and Levi," said Mr. Larkin, interposing in the character of the vir pietate gravis.
Sally Rumble, recollecting Mr. Dingwell's direction, "Let 'em have the money, too, if they press for it," obeyed, and slid her hand under his bolster, and under his head, from the other side where she was standing; and Dingwell, feeling the motion, I suppose, raised his head and stared with sunken eyes dismally at the three gentlemen, whom he plainly did not recognise, or possibly saw in the shapes of foxes, wolves, or owls, which Æsop would have metaphorically assigned them, and with a weary groan he closed his wandering eyes again, and sank down on the pillow.
Miss Rumble drew forth a roll of bank-notes with a string tied round them.
"Take the money, Levi," said Goldshed, drawing a step backward.
"Take it yourself, guv'nor," said Levi, waving back Miss Sally Rumble, and edging back a little himself.
"Well," said Goldshed, quietly, "I see you're afraid of that infection."
"I believe you," answered Levi.
"So am I," said Goldshed, uneasily.