He said it was a felony.

I told him that I dared say it was, but he had got to do it, for reasons which I couldn't give, but which were highly creditable to all parties.

In the end he agreed, and I saw it done.

I had a pull on old Sloggett, for I had known him ever since he owned a dissolute tug-boat at Delagoa Bay.
Then Peter and I went ashore and swaggered into Lisbon as if we owned De Beers.

We put up at the big hotel opposite the railway station, and looked and behaved like a pair of lowbred South Africans home for a spree.