Look at that little villain, Richards.

He has just cleared the table, and done it with all the coolness of a professional marker.

The young scoundrel ought to have been in bed two hours ago, for I hear that tat of his is really a good one.

Not that it will make any difference to him.

That sort of boy would play billiards till the first bugle sounds in the morning, and have a wash and turn out as fresh as paint, but it won't last, Doolan, not in this climate; his cheeks will have fallen in and he will have crow's feet at the corners of his eyes before another year has gone over.