Albert. We'll go to London.
Bill. But 'e must 'ave 'is share.
Sniggers. All right. Only let's go. [To The Toff.] We're going, do you hear? Give us the ruby.
The Toff. Certainly. [He gives them a ruby from his waistcoat pocket; it is the size of a small hen's egg. He goes on reading his paper.]
Albert. Come on, Sniggers. [Exeunt Albert and Sniggers.]
Bill. Good-by, old man. We'll give you your fair share, but there's nothing to do here—no girls, no halls, and we must sell the ruby.
The Toff. I'm not a fool, Bill.
Bill. No, no, of course not. Of course you ain't, and you've helped us a lot. Good-by. You'll say good-by?
The Toff. Oh, yes. Good-by. [Still reads his paper. Exit Bill. The Toff puts a revolver on the table beside him and goes on with his papers. After a moment the three men come rushing in again, frightened.]
Sniggers [out of breath]. We've come back, Toffy.