"Come back with me, you two," he suggested. "I've got quite decent digs
in Cecil Stweet, off the Stwand. And I've a little collection that
might intewest you...."

"I know, monstrosities in bottles and side elevations of premature
babies," surmised Killigrew; "you're a foul old thing! But we'll come
and have a yarn over 'em anyway. I'm not in a hurry to face my revered
parents and I daren't take this good little boy to some places you and I
know of. I'm responsible for him."

Carminow turned a pessimistic eye on Ishmael. "Are you still pure?" he
shot at him in his deepest bass. "I see you are; your look answers for
you." And he strode on again. He turned to add over his shoulder: "I
cannot in the intewests of my pwofession emulate you; it is incumbent on
me to know first hand all that is possible, but I consider it an
excellent thing for the layman. Keep it up. Don't let Killigrew, who is
a commonplace sinner, laugh you out of it."

Ishmael forced himself to reply that he did not intend to forego his own
ideas on the subject for Killigrew or anyone else; and, indeed, he was
not so outraged by anything Carminow had said as by Killigrew's
whispered communication that for his part he believed Carminow was
boasting.... "Don't believe he knows the way," added Killigrew, "or only
theoretically. He's like a lot of doctors--all theories and no
practice." He was so pleased with this joke he had to repeat it aloud to
Carminow, who bore it quite unruffled.

They had now reached the house, one of the many little lodging-houses
that stood where the Hotel Cecil is to-day, and Carminow let himself in