Both gentlemen had very open waistcoats and very
rolling collars, and very small boots, and very big rings, and very
little watches, and very large guard-chains, and symmetrical
inexpressibles, and scented pocket-handkerchiefs.
'I never bet half a dozen!' said the other gentleman. 'I'll take
a dozen.'
'Done, Simmery, done!' said Wilkins Flasher, Esquire.
'P. P., mind,' observed the other.
'Of course,' replied Wilkins Flasher, Esquire. Wilkins Flasher,
Esquire, entered it in a little book, with a gold pencil-case, and
the other gentleman entered it also, in another little book with
another gold pencil-case.
'I see there's a notice up this morning about Boffer,' observed
Mr. Simmery. 'Poor devil, he's expelled the house!'
'I'll bet you ten guineas to five, he cuts his throat,' said Wilkins
Flasher, Esquire.
'Done,' replied Mr. Simmery.
'Stop! I bar,' said Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, thoughtfully.
'Perhaps he may hang himself.'
'Very good,' rejoined Mr. Simmery, pulling out the gold
pencil-case again. 'I've no objection to take you that way. Say,
makes away with himself.'
'Kills himself, in fact,' said Wilkins Flasher, Esquire.
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