“Dat’s right,” agreed Spike. “Dey’se de limit.”
And, apparently oblivious to the presence of Lord Dreever, who had been watching him in blank silence since his entrance, the Bowery boy proceeded to execute a mysterious shuffling dance on the carpet.
This was too much for the overwrought brain of his lordship.
“Good-bye, Pitt,” he said; “I’m off. Got to see a man.”
Jimmy saw him to the door.
Outside, Lord Dreever placed the palm of his right hand on his forehead.
“I say, Pitt,” he said.
“Halloa!”
“Who the devil’s that?”
“Who? Spike? Oh, that’s my man.”