"Will any one do anything about Hybiscus?"
"I'll give you five to one," said a tall, stiff Saxon peer, in
a white great coat.
"No; I'll take six."
The tall, stiff peer in the white great coat mused for a
moment with his pencil at his lip, and then said, "Well, I'll
give you six. What do you say about Mango?"
"Eleven to two against Mango," called out a little humpbacked
man in a shrill voice, but with the air of one who was master
of his work.
"I should like to do a little business with you, Mr
Chippendale," said Lord Milford in a coaxing tone, "but I must
have six to one."
"Eleven to two, and no mistake," said this keeper of a second-
rate gaming-house, who, known by the flattering appellation of
Hump Chippendale, now turned with malignant abruptness from
the heir apparent of an English earldom.
"You shall have six to one, my Lord," said Captain Spruce, a
debonair personage with a well-turned silk hat arranged a
little aside, his coloured cravat tied with precision, his
whiskers trimmed like a quickset hedge. Spruce, who had
earned his title of Captain on the plains of Newmarket, which
had witnessed for many a year his successful exploits, had a
weakness for the aristocracy, who knowing his graceful
infirmity patronized him with condescending dexterity,
acknowledged his existence in Pall Mall as well as at
Tattersalls, and thus occasionally got a point more than the
betting out of him.
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