I assure you this will be an exhibition only, just
a game."
He looked round over the seated company.
The short plump Karaite, black as a beetle, came forward from his
table.
"At your service," he said amusedly.
"Yasha!" The orator signed with his head.
Yasha came close to the solicitor. On his left arm, which was bent,
hung a bright-coloured, figured scarf.
"Suppose yer in church or at the bar in one of the halls,--or watchin'
a circus," he began in a sugary, fluent voice. "I see straight
off--there's a toff... Excuse me, sir. Suppose you're the toff.
There's no offence--just means a rich gent, decent enough, but don't
know his way about. First--what's he likely to have about 'im? All
sorts. Mostly, a ticker and a chain. Whereabouts does he keep 'em?
Somewhere in his top vest pocket--here. Others have 'em in the bottom
pocket. Just here. Purse--most always in the trousers, except when a
greeny keeps it in his jacket. Cigar-case. Have a look first what it
is--gold, silver--with a monogram. Leather--what decent man'd soil his
hands? Cigar-case. Seven pockets: here, here, here, up there, there,
here and here again.
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