“But you just take it.”
“Well, you’d do the same yourself, wouldn’t you?”
“I dare say. May I offer you some whisky now?”
“Well, if you are so pressing. My motto is: Never refuse a gargle. They say it’s good for the teeth.”
Basil poured out.
“Hold hard, old man,” cried James. “You needn’t be too generous with the soda. Well, ’ere’s luck!”
He emptied his glass at a gulp and smacked his lips.
“There are no flies about that, I lay. Now I’ll be toddling.”
Basil did not press him to stay, but by way of speeding the parting guest, offered a cigar. James took and examined it.
“Villar y Villar!” he exclaimed. ’That’s all right. How much do they run you in a ’undred?”