Waffles at Miss
Lollypop's, the confectioner, eating ices and making love to that very
interesting much-courted young lady. True to his time, there was Waffles,
eating and eyeing the cherry-coloured ribbons, floating in graceful curls
along with her raven-coloured ringlets, down Miss Lollypop's nice fresh
plump cheeks.
After expatiating on the great merits of the horse, and the certainty of
getting all the money back by steeple-chasing him in the spring, and
stating his conviction that Mr. Sponge would not take any part of the
purchase-money in pictures or jewellery, or anything of that sort, Mr.
Waffles gave his consent to deal, on the terms the following conversation
shows.
'My friend will give you your price, if you wouldn't mind taking his cheque
and keeping it for a few months till he's into funds,' observed Mr.
Thornton, who now sought Mr. Sponge out at the billiard-room.
'Why,' observed Mr. Sponge, thoughtfully, 'you know horses are always ready
money.'
'True,' replied Thornton; 'at least that's the theory of the thing; only
my friend is rather peculiarly situated at present.
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