There was generally on Sundays a house dinner, so called, at eight
o'clock. Five or six men would sit down, and would always gamble
afterwards. On this occasion Dolly Longestaffe sauntered in at about
seven in quest of sherry and bitters, and Felix found the opportunity
a good one to speak of his money. 'You couldn't cash your I.O.U.'s
for me to-morrow;--could you?'

'To-morrow! oh, lord!'

'I'll tell you why. You know I'd tell you anything because I think we
are really friends. I'm after that daughter of Melmotte's.'

'I'm told you're to have her.'

'I don't know about that. I mean to try at any rate. I've gone in you
know for that Board in the city.'

'I don't know anything about Boards, my boy.'

'Yes, you do, Dolly. You remember that American fellow, Montague's
friend, that was here one night and won all our money.'

'The chap that had the waistcoat, and went away in the morning to
California. Fancy starting to California after a hard night. I always
wondered whether he got there alive.'

'Well;--I can't explain to you all about it, because you hate those
kinds of things.'