‘Good mornin’, sir,’ he said, ‘Hi come from Dopin and Bleeder’s the ’orse-dealers, and I’ve got a little bill ’ere for yer, honly a matter of fifteen pounds, as I’ll trouble you to settle.’
‘Doping and Bleeder,’ I murmured, ‘I don’t know the people.’
‘Now look ’ere, sir,’ he said with an expression which betokened sorrow rather than anger, ‘none o’ these little games, you’re Lord Gilderdale, haren’t you?’
‘Certainly not,’ I replied crossly, ‘next time perhaps you will make sure of whom you are talking to before you descend to impertinence, my man; little games indeed.’
‘Ho, then you’re the O’Roozer,’ he remarked, ‘I’ve got a bill for you for twenty-three pounds seventeen and fourpence.’
‘What’s the fourpence for?’ I queried, but by this time the portly gentleman was getting somewhat angry.
‘Never yer mind, sir, it’s for value received, hand given,’ he said, ‘an’ our Mr. Bleeder says as ’ow ’e ’opes you’ll see your way to lettin’ ’im ’ave the money this week, or ’e’ll ’ave to take proceedings, which is always most repugnant both for you and hus.’
‘Now you’ve got that off your chest, you can go,’ I said, ‘I’m not Mr. O’Rossa nor am I Lord Gilderdale. Good-day.’
But the worthy representative of Messrs. Doping and Bleeder was not so easily disposed of.
‘Now look ’ere,’ he said, ‘Hi believe that it’s hall a bloomin’ ’oax, if yer aint Wiscount Gilderdale, an’ yer hain’t the Ho Roozer ’oo the blazes are yer?’