"Here's to you then, Bucky," said Frawley, nodding.
"Remember what I tell you," said Greenfield, looking over his glass, "there's going to be something to live for."
"I say, Bucky," said Frawley with a lazy interest, "would they serve you five-o'clock tea here, I wonder?"
Greenfield, drawing back, laughed a superior laugh.
"Bub, I'm sorry for you—'pon my word I am."
"How so, Bucky?"
"Why, you plodding little English lamb, you don't have the slightest suspicion what you're gettin' into!"
"What am I getting into, Bucky?"
Greenfield threw back his head with a chuckle.
"If you get me, it'll be the last job you ever pull off."