“Never knew you out of it. What’s up?” said Langrish.
“Really though, no larks,” said I. “Tempest’s down on me because I went out with Crofter, and Crofter’s down on me because I cut him for Tempest. That’s enough to give a chap blues, isn’t it?”
“There seems to be a run on Sarah,” said Trimble. “Anybody got a halfpenny?”
“What for?” I inquired, as the requisite coin was planked down on the table.
“Heads Tempest, tails Crofter,” said Langrish.
It was heads, and I was solemnly ordered to adhere to Crofter.
“We’ll square it with Tempest,” said they. “He’ll probably keep his shutters up for a day or two, but he’ll soon get over it.”
“But,” said I, “I mean to stick to Tempest as well. The fact is, from what I hear,”—little I realised the fatal error I was making!—“he’s in rather a bad way himself.”
“How?”
“Well, don’t tell; but he’s owing a lot in the shops; and if he can’t pay he’ll get shown up.”