'I'll lay ten to one—ten fifties to one—he does,—a thousand to ten if you like.' If all the purses in the house had been clubbed together, we don't believe they would have raised fifty pounds.
'What sort of a looking man is he?' asked Miss Glitters, now counting her loops.
'Oh—whoy—ha—hem—haw—he's just an ordinary sort of lookin' man—nothin' 'tickler any way,' drawled Captain Seedeybuck, now wetting and twirling his moustache.
'Two legs, a head, a back, and so on, I presume,' observed the lady.
'Just so,' assented Captain Seedeybuck.
'He's a horsey-lookin' sort o' man, I should say,' observed Captain Bouncey, 'walks as if he ought to be ridin'—wears vinegar tops.'
'Hate vinegar tops,' growled Seedeybuck.
Just then, in came Lady Scattercash, attended by Mr. Orlando Bugles, the ladies' attractions having caused that distinguished performer to forfeit his engagement at the Surrey Theatre. Captain Cutitfat, Bob Spangles, and Sir Harry quickly followed, and the Sponge question was presently renewed.
'Who says old brown boots comes?' exclaimed Seedeybuck from the sofa.