Woodseer could hear the captain's lowered roar: 'Race you, Chummy, couple of louis, catch him first!' The two came pelting up to the carriage abreast.
They were belated revellers, and had been carelessly strolling under the pinky cloudlets bedward, after a prolonged carousal with the sons and daughters of hilarious nations, until the apparition of Virgin Luck on the wing shocked all prospect of a dead fight with the tables that day.
'Here, come, no, by Jove, you, Mr.Woodsir! won't do, not a bit! can't let you go,' cried Abrane, as he puffed.

'What! cut and run and leave us, post winnings--bankers--knock your luck on the head! What a fellow! Can't let you.

Countess never forgive us.

You promised--swore it--play for her.

Struck all aheap to hear of your play! You've got the trick.
Her purse for you in my pocket.