Stephen did walk into it with great relish, and began to think Mr Cripps quite a gentleman. He was certain, even if that bat had been a poor one, it was quite worth the money paid for it, and Oliver was unjust in calling Cripps hard names.
The landlord very soon returned with the paper.
“Here you are, young governor. Now don’t hurry away. It’s lonely here all by myself, and I like a young gentleman like you to talk to. I knew a nice little boy once, just your age, that used to come and see me regular once a week and play bagatelle with me. He was a good player at it too!”
“Could he get clear-board twice running with two balls?” asked Stephen, half jealous of the fame of this unknown rival.
“Eh!—no, scarcely that. He wasn’t quite such a dab as that.”
“I can do it,” said Stephen with a superior smile.
“You? Not a bit of you!” said Mr Cripps, incredulously.
“Yes, I can,” reiterated Stephen, delighted to have astonished his host.
“I must see it before I can believe that,” said Mr Cripps. “Suppose you show me on my board.”
Stephen promptly accepted the challenge, and forgetting in his excitement all about school rules or Loman’s orders accompanied Cripps to the bagatelle-room, with its sanded floor, smelling of stale tobacco and beer-dregs. His first attempt, greatly to Mr Cripps’s glee, was unsuccessful.