He must needs listen to all he heard, and these phrases were plainly meant to meet his ear.
He glanced at Lord Claud to see if he had heard, but there was no change in the thoughtful face.

His companion appeared lost in his own reflections, and Tom, dropping a pace behind, looked back to see who had spoken.
As he had surmised, it was the four bully beaux whom he had met at the Folly the previous day.

So much had happened in the interim, that Tom could have believed it a week ago.

At his look they all burst into jeering laughter, but it did not appear as though they desired speech of him, or any sort of encounter, for they plunged hastily down a side street, and Tom saw that Lord Claud had just turned his head to see what hindered his companion.
"Pay no heed to drunken roisterers i' the streets, Tom," advised his mentor; "a quarrel is quicker provoked than mended, except at the sword's point, and unseemly is brawling at street corners.

Yon fellows bear you some ill will for my threat yesterday.