"All my influence," said Stover.
"Wookey," said McNab, as a judge would say it, "very fortunate, sir, have such good infloonce. Con-grath-ulate you."
Wookey, whether deceived by their drunken assumption of sobriety, or to conciliate dangerous men, remained in his corner, his book closed, blinking out from his wide glasses.
McNab, remembering the beginning of a discussion in which he had engaged with serious purpose, suddenly began, shaking his head:
"Dink, you ought be better infloonce than y'are."
Stover chose to be offended.
"Why you say that?"
"'Cause 'm right; y'oughtn't drink, not a drop!"
"What right you got to say that?"
"Every right—every," said McNab, trying to remember what was the original destination of his argument. "I'm bad example 'n you're good infloonce, there's diff, see?"