‘We cannot help that, I suppose, and I need not take up more of your time at present.’
‘Are you in a hurry? Because I am going out to have some luncheon, and you might join me.’
The invitation was given so cordially, that Philip could not decline, and they went out by the private door together. At the mouth of the alley they were passed by a smart little man with thin clean-shaved face, wearing a soft felt hat, a loose black frock-coat, and gray tweed trousers. He carried in his hand a folding trestle and a well-filled green bag, and under his arm was a small circular table top covered with green baize.
He lifted his hat to Philip, who acknowledged the salute with a pleasant nod. Wrentham’s attention was attracted by something in another direction, and the little man went swiftly on his way.
‘That’s the juggler Bob Tuppit,’ said Philip to his companion. ‘Haven’t you seen him down our way? I suppose he has just had a successful performance in some quiet court, he looks so cheery. Clever fellow; works ten and twelve hours a day, and tells me he makes a decent income out of it.’
‘Is he an acquaintance of yours?’ inquired Wrentham, somewhat drily.
‘I have had several chats with him, and found him a most interesting and intelligent fellow.’
‘Has he told you anything about his family?’
‘Nothing more than that he is married; has a troop of children, and a comfortable home.’
‘Ah, that is not like the ordinary tramp. But I wouldn’t cultivate his acquaintance, if I were you. No doubt he told you all about his birth and parentage, and got a sovereign out of you on the strength of being a poor orphan.’