“Then what possessed you to give it away to him, you owl?”
“I’ve got his bag. If ’e gives anything away, he’ll have to go naked.”
At this point I thought it best to rattle my tins and step out of the shadow of the crane.
“I’ve bought the ham,” I called sweetly. “Have you still any objection to my seeing life, Mr. Moorshed?”
“All right, if you’re insured. Won’t you come down?”
I descended; Pyecroft, by a silent flank movement, possessing himself of all the provisions, which he bore to some hole forward.
“Have you known Mr. Pyecroft long?” said my host.
“Met him once, a year ago, at Devonport. What do you think of him?”
“What do you think of him?”
“I’ve left the Pedantic—her boat will be waiting for me at ten o’clock, too—simply because I happened to meet him,” I replied.