"You sent for me ?" he asked, taking the cigarette out of his mouth.
"No, sir," answered the old lord curtly; "I sent for your brother.

The fools can't take even a message right now, it seems." "Shouldn't have named us so near alike; it's often a bore!" said Bertie.
"I didn't name you, sir; your mother named you," answered his father sharply; the subject irritated him.
"It's of no consequence which!" murmured Cecil, with an expostulatory wave of his cigar.

"We're not even asked whether we like to come into the world; we can't expect to be asked what we like to be called in it.
Good-day to you, sir." He turned to move away to the house, but his father stopped him; he knew that he had been discourteous--a far worse crime in Lord Royallieu's eyes than to be heartless.
"So you won the Vase yesterday ?" he asked pausing in his walk with his back bowed, but his stern, silver-haired head erect.
"I didn't--the King did." "That's absurd, sir," said the Viscount, in his resonant and yet melodious voice.

"The finest horse in the world may have his back broke by bad riding, and a screw has won before now when it's been finely handled.

The finish was tight, wasn't it ?" "Well--rather.