“I don’t mind,” said Mornice.
“Then do,” said Eliphalet; “and I shall be left without a care in the world, to enjoy an affluent old age.”
“You mean that, Dads?”
“ ’Course I do. But don’t go talking about it in the company, or everyone will be trying to borrow.”
So they went out, laughing, who had entered in tears.
“Manning,” said Eliphalet, when the stage-manager, according to his custom, looked in for final instructions, “what d’you think we could realise on the scenery and costumes?”
“ ’Bout four hundred. Laon’s should be good for that.”
“H’m! not bad. Tell ’em we’ll sell. Good night, Manning.”
“G’night, Guv’nor.”
He turned over the pages of his bank-book, and examined the balance. “Ought just to see me through,” he muttered; “and then—four hundred pounds!”