Mike quite admitted the gravity of the task. The landlord of the White Boar was one of those men who need a beauty sleep.
"I wish you would—it's a thing that can't wait. I've got some money to give to him."
"Oh, if it's that ..." said the boots.
Five minutes later mine host appeared in person, looking more than usually portly in a check dressing gown and red bedroom slippers.
"You can pop off, Jack."
Exit boots to his slumbers once more.
"Well, Mr. Jackson, what's it all about?"
"Jellicoe asked me to come and bring you the money."
"The money? What money?"
"What he owes you; the five pounds, of course."