whole species?”
“Towards the whole species.”
“Even young Bingo?” I said, trying him pretty high.
“My nephew? Richard?” He looked a bit thoughtful, but stuck it like a man and refused to hedge.
“Yes, even towards Richard. Well … that is to say … perhaps … yes, even towards Richard.”
“That’s good, because I wanted to talk about him. He’s pretty hard up, you know.”
“In straitened circumstances?”
“Stoney. And he could use a bit of the right stuff paid every quarter, if you felt like unbelting.”
He mused awhile and got through a slab of cold guinea hen before replying. He toyed with the book, and it fell open at page two