You can't afford to stir up a row. Old
man Portman and Mary and Christine won't thank you for stirring things
up. They're not anxious to 'ave a scandal. If you go arfter Brad too
rough, it will percipitate matters instead of 'olding them back. And
he'll know to onct that you are acting for his wife--a sort of go-
between, don't you see. That will make it the wuss for 'er. So, just
'old yourself in, David. Now, let's talk about somethink else.
Yourself, for instance."
David resignedly settled back, and was at once involved in an exchange
of personal narrative.
"I 'ave retired from the stage," remarked Joey, putting his thumbs in
the armholes of his velvet waistcoat. "I am too old to go clowning it
any longer. This was my last season. I've got a comfortable income,
thanks to you, David, and I'm going to spend the rest of my days in
peace and quiet--if you call New York quiet, wot with the church bells
and the milkmen. Three seasons in the pantomime, doing all the one-
night stands in this bloomin' country, is enough for Joey. If you
'adn't staked me when I was stony broke three years ago, Davy, I'd be
in the poor 'ouse now, I daresay.
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