The quarrel came to no end; it was a feud.

'Esprit de corps,' like the fumes of wine, gives men a wholly unreasonable sense of complacence in themselves and their belongings, whatever the belongings may happen to be.

The Syndicate learned to cherish this feud as a valuable possession.
The Syndicate, as has been seen, had one house, one servant, and one enemy.

It also had one Baby.

The Baby was the youngest member of the community, a pretty boy who by some chance favour had obtained a bed in the dormitory at the hoyden age of nineteen.