The barrister, coiled up like a boa-constrictor, glared at him in mock fury.
"I beg pardon, sir," he blurted out, "I didn't know you was in." "Evidently.

A more expert scoundrel would have stolen them under my very nose.

You are a bungler." "I really wasn't goin' to take any, sir--just put them away, that is all." "In that packet," said Brett, "there are eighty-seven cigarettes.

I count them, because each one is an epoch.

I don't count the cigars in the sideboard." "I prefer cigars," grinned the waiter.
"So I see.