"At Isaacstein's in Hatton Garden." The words had not left his lips ere he regretted them.
"Wot is 'e?"
"A Jew," and Philip laughed. This quip atoned for the error of the admission.
"Bli-me, you won't get a lot aht of 'im."
"No. It cost me some trouble to get an advance, I can assure you."
Philip rattled all his silver and coppers onto the counter. He counted out sixteen shillings sixpence.
"Not much left, is there?" he said.
"Well, look 'ere," said the man. "Gimme fifteen bob. You're a sharp lad. You'll myke yer w'y all right. Nex' time you want some duds come to me an' I'll treat you fair."
"Thank you very much," said Philip, considerably surprised by this generous act. "I certainly will not forget you."
"You can change in my little back room if you like. That lot you've got on ain't worth tykin' 'ome."