‘ I’m not good for York,’ said Mr Rugg.
‘ Then perhaps,’ pursued Pancks, ‘you’ll be so obliging, John Chivery?’
Young John assenting, Pancks dealt him his card, and consulted his hand again.
‘ There’s a Church in London; I may as well take that. And a Family Bible; I may as well take that, too. That’s two to me. Two to me,’ repeated Pancks, breathing hard over his cards. ‘Here’s a Clerk at Durham for you, John, and an old seafaring gentleman at Dunstable for you, Mr Rugg. Two to me, was it? Yes, two to me. Here’s a Stone; three to me. And a Still-born Baby; four to me. And all, for the present, told.’
When he had thus disposed of his cards, all being done very quietly and in a suppressed tone, Mr Pancks puffed his way into his own breast-pocket and tugged out a canvas bag; from whic
