There was a snort of derision from the bathroom.
“You might, you know, Davy.”
“Never!”
“But your presence would be so—so soothing and soporific, Davy! Won’t you?”
“No.”
“All right then, don’t, you big selfish brute!” He moved away from the door and his eyes fell on David’s clothing scattered generously over the study. Picking up the coat he abstracted a bill-roll from a pocket and helped himself to a five-dollar note. Then he hid the coat under the couch and went back to the bathroom door.
“Little Phillip may act naughty, Davy, and so I’ve borrowed a fiver from you to buy him candy.”
“Better get him a bottle,” gurgled David.
“Farewell, Davy. I’ll see you later. I’ve got tickets for the Hollis. So don’t run away.”