'Well, better be run through by this clown,' he muttered after a while, 'than live to put a pistol to my own head like Mountford and Bland.

Or Scarborough, or poor Bolton.

It is not likely, and I wish that little pettifogger had not put it into my head; but if a cousin were to appear now, or before the time is up, I should be in Queer Street.

Estcombe is dipped: and of the money I raised, there is no more at the agent's than I have lost in a night at Quinze! D----n White's and that is all about it.

And d----n it, I shall, and finely, if old Anthony's lad turn up and sweep off the three thousand a year that is left.