"No, they haven't." After a pause, he added, sullenly, "My old mother's allowing me a pound a week, and I'm living on that. So now you know."
"Honest?"
"It's the gospel truth. So you'll be able to judge for yourself how likely I am to be able to get back to London on that, especially as she won't let me have a penny in advance."
"A nice sort you are!--after the lies you told me about the tons of money you'd got yourself, and the other tons your friends had got!--a pound a week!"
"Anyhow I'm not a thief."
"And I shouldn't have been a thief if I hadn't listened to your lies; and very well you know it. I've had enough of you; take yourself off!"
"Take myself off?"
"Yes, take yourself off, before I tell some one to take you."
"Well! you've got a face! If I do go I'll put the police on to you, and then you'll sing a different song."
"You dare!"