catchee. Him worth pay for, eh, Missa Lonefelt?"
"Ten thousand at a go—maybe twenty," exclaimed the Jew, leaning forward with twitching lips, and eyes all a-glitter. "What's your price, Loo? Give it a name, and if I can meet you I will, s'welp me. You know I've always been fair and honourable with you."
"Me sell you one piecee doggie five hundled pounds."
As Loo Chai imparted this apparently irrelevant piece of information, he slowly waved one hand towards the mongrel on the
sheepskin, and smiled blandly as he added: "And velly good chop, too, I tink."
"What! five hundred pounds for a bloomin' tyke, and a mighty ugly one at that. What's the good of pulling my leg like that when we're supposed to be talking strict business; what the blathes do I want with your dog? "
