"You young goat! I'm out of it. Honour bright. So if you feel inclined to slog away and boom the lady, there's no reason why you shouldn't."
"Is there any reason why I should?" inquired Rickman with treacherous severity. So immense was his calm that Dicky was taken in by it and blundered.
"Well, yes," said he, "in that case, we might consider our little account settled."
"Our little account, Dicky, will be run up on the wrong side of the paper if you don't take care."
"Wot d'you mean?"
"I mean that when you've got a particularly filthy job on hand, it's as well to keep away from people who are not fond of dirt. At any rate, I advise you not to come too near me."
Dicky for the first time that evening looked uncomfortable. It occurred to Dicky that whisky and soda was not the very best drink to talk business on.
"I've noticed, Rickman," said he, "that since you've been living down in the country, you don't seem able to understand a joke."
But Rickman had got his legs on the other side of the window ledge, and as Dicky approached him he slid down on to the esplanade and slipped into the night.