"But you do serve, Mr.Pincornet! You teach all the 'Well-born' how to dance!" "Didn't you teach the Carys?
They dance beautifully." "Are brocaded coats still worn in Gascony ?" "_Ne sutor supra crepidam judicaret!_ Caper all you please on a waxed floor, but leave Virginians to rule!" Fairfax Cary, hot and angry, put in an oar.

"Mr.Sheriff, Mr.Sheriff! Mr.Pincornet has lived these twelve years in Albemarle! We have no more respected, no more esteemed citizen.

His vote's as good as any man's--and rather better, I may remark, than that of some men!" He looked pointedly at Mocket.
Lewis Rand gave his henchman a second guiding glance.
"It is merely," said Mocket promptly, "a question of that Alien Law of which the 'Well-born' are so proud.

Show your papers, Mr.Pincornet.

If you are a citizen of the United States, you have papers to show for it." "Yes, sir," agreed the sheriff.