"Ass! blockhead! You know no better than to let such a man in his
state of health get mixed up m a crowd of roughs at midnight? Good
God! He may die!"
"I shouldn't wonder a bit," returned Gammon coolly. "If he does it
may be awkward for you, eh?"
From his story he had omitted one detail, thinking it better to keep
silence about the burning of the will until he learnt more than
Greenacre had as yet avowed to him.
"Fool!" blustered the other. "Idiot!"
"You'd better stop that, Greenacre, or I shan't be the only man with
a black eye. Do you want to be kicked downstairs? or would you
prefer to drop out of the window? Keep a civil tongue in your head."
At this moment both were startled into silence by a violent thumping
at the wall.
It came from the room which used to be occupied by Polly Sparkes,
and was accompanied by angry verbal remonstrance from a lodger
disturbed in his slumbers.
"Didn't I tell you?" muttered Gammon. "You'd better get home and go
to bed; the walk will cool you down. It's all up with your little
game for the present.
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