“But would you think that of me, sir?”
Mr. Brandon put the newspaper on the table with a dash, and burst out with as much feeling as his weak voice would allow him.
“Johnny Ludlow, I’d rather have seen you come to sweep a crossing in this vile town, than to frequent one of its public billiard-rooms!”
“But I don’t frequent them, Mr. Brandon.”
“How many times have you been in?”
“Twice in the one where you saw me: once in another. Three times in all.”
“That’s three times too much. Have you played?”
“No, sir; there’s never any room for me.”
“Do you bet?”