The Toff. Oh, nobody will come this way. We're all alone on a moor.
Bill. Where will we put them?
The Toff. Bury them in the cellar, but there's no hurry.
Bill. And what then, Toffy?
The Toff. Why, then we'll go to London and upset the ruby business. We have really come through this job very nicely.
Bill. I think the first thing that we ought to do is to give a little supper to old Toffy. We'll bury these fellows to-night.
Albert. Yes, let's.
Sniggers. The very thing!
Bill. And we'll all drink his health.
Albert. Good old Toffy!