Moore. Muck! Wot I ses is, if a cove’s got that much of the nob about him, wot’s the good of his working single-handed? That’s wot’s the matter with him.
Smith. Well, old Father Christmas, he ain’t single-handed to-night, is he?
Moore. No, he ain’t; he’s got a man with him to-night.
Smith. Pardon me, Romeo: two men, I think?
Moore. A man wot means business. If I’d ’a’ bin with him last night, it ain’t psalm-singin’ would have got us off. Psalm-singin’? Muck! Let ’em try it on with me.
Ainslie. Losh me, I heard a noise. (Alarm; they crouch into the shadow and listen.)
Smith. All serene. (To Ainslie.) Am I to cut that liver out of you? Now, am I? (A whistle.) ’St! here we are. (Whistles a modulation, which is answered.)
SCENE II
To these, Brodie