He sat on his stool whistling softly to himself.
"Then I suppose," he said at last, "I must have looked a pretty sort of an ass coming through the wall like a madman." Pritchard shook his head.
"You looked just about what you were," he answered, "a d----d good sort.
I'm not playing up to you that it was all pretense.

You can never trust that gang.

The blackguard outside was in earnest, anyway.

After all, you know, they wouldn't miss me if I were to drop quietly out.

There 's no one else they 're quite so much afraid of.