He curled his mustachios up to his eyes in his wrath.

"You don't mean that that man calls himself a Prince?
That a fellow who wouldn't sit down in an officer's presence is----" "How do you do, Mr.Honeyman ?--Eh, bong soir, Monsieur--You are very late, Mr.Pressly .-- What, Barnes! is it possible that you do me the honour to come all the way from Mayfair to Marylebone?
I thought you young men of fashion never crossed Oxford Street.

Colonel Newcome, this is your nephew." "How do you do, sir ?" says Barnes, surveying the Colonel's costume with inward wonder, but without the least outward manifestation of surprise.
"I suppose you dined here to meet the black Prince.

I came to ask him and my uncle to meet you at dinner on Wednesday.

Where's my uncle, ma'am ?" "Your uncle is gone to bed ill.