KIPPS
"For 'is 'ealth," said Kipps, with sudden bitterness. "'E's been speckylating. He's speckylated our money and 'e's speckylated their money, and now 'e's took 'is 'ook. That's all about it, Ann."
"You mean?"
"I mean 'e's orf and our twenty-four fousand's orf too! And 'ere we are! Smashed up! That's all about it, Ann." He panted.
Ann had no vocabulary for such an occasion. "Oh, lor'!" she said, and sat still.
Kipps came about and stuck his hands deeply in his trouser pockets. "Speckylated every penny—lorst it all—and gorn."
Even his lips were white.
"You mean we ain't got nothin' left, Artie?"
"Not a penny! Not a bloomin' penny, Ann. No!"
A gust of passion whirled across the soul of Kipps. He flung out a knuckly fist. "If I 'ad 'im 'ere," he said, "I'd—I'd—I'd wring 'is neck for 'im. I'd—I'd—" His voice rose to a shout. He thought of Gwendolen in the kitchen, and fell to "Ugh!".
"But, Artie," said Ann, trying to grasp it, "d'you mean to say he's took our money?"
"Speckylated it!" said Kipps, with an illustrative flourish of the arm that failed to illustrate. "Bort things dear and sold 'em cheap, and played the 'ankey-pankey jackass with everything we got. That's what I mean 'e's done, Ann." He repeated this last sentence with the addition of violent adverbs.
"D'you mean to say our money's gone, Artie?"
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