He looked up, half vexed, half astonished.

"What do you mean ?" he replied.

"Surely it's nothing to do with me ?" "Oh, I know.

But I wouldn't care to do it if you didn't like it.
Besides, I feel rather low going when you're not asked too." "I shouldn't go if I was asked," replied Jack.
"Why not ?" I inquired.
"I've something better to do with my time and my money than that sort of thing," he replied, quietly.
I went up to Doubleday's that evening more uneasy in my mind than I had been for a long time.

I was angry with him for asking me; I was angry with myself for going; and I was angry with Smith because I felt his rebuke was a just one.
"Hullo, young un!" cried my host as I entered his now familiar lodgings; "all waiting for you.