Not a hamlet between here and Truro, or between here and Helston, but swarms with big Tressilian noses like your own, in memory of your debauched parent." Sir Oliver's eyes grew narrower: he smiled.

"I wonder how you came by your own nose ?" he wondered.
Master Godolphin got to his feet in a passion, and his chair crashed over behind him.

"Sir," he blazed, "you insult my mother's memory!" Sir Oliver laughed.

"I make a little free with it, perhaps, in return for your pleasantries on the score of my father." Master Godolphin pondered him in speechless anger, then swayed by his passion he leaned across the board, raised his long cane and struck Sir Oliver sharply on the shoulder.
That done, he strode off magnificently towards the door.

Half-way thither he paused.
"I shall expect your friends and the length of your sword," said he.
Sir Oliver laughed again.