He stood watching the old man with an imperturbable air of gravity, and, hanging on his arm in a state of listless apathy, stood Trevannion, another member of the first class.
Frank Digby took too active a share in most things in the establishment to remain a passive spectator of the actions of others, and began pushing right and left.

"Get along, get away ye vagabonds!" he politely cried: "you little shrimps! what business have you to stop the way ?--Alfred, you ignoramus! Alfred, why don't you move ?" "Because I'm buying something," said the little boy addressed, looking up very quietly at the imperious intruder.
"_Da locum melioribus_, Alfred, as the poet has it.

Do you know where to find that, my boy ?--the first line of the thirteenth book of the Aeneid, being a speech of the son of Anchises to the Queen of Carthage.
You'll find a copy of Virgil's works in my desk." "I don't mean to look," said Alfred, "I know it's in the Delectus." "Wonderful memory!--I admire that delectable book of yours," cried Frank, who talked on without stopping, while forcing himself to the first rank.
"How now, Maister Dunn!" he said, addressing the old man, "I hope you b'aint a going to treat us as e did last time.

You must be reasonable; the money market is in a sadly unflourishing condition at present." "You always talk of the _money market_, Frank," said little Alfred: "what do you mean by the money market ?" "It's a place, my dear--I'll explain it in a moment.

Here, Maister Dunn;--It's a place where the old women sell sovereigns a penny a measure, Alfred." "Oh, Frank!" exclaimed Alfred.
"Oh! and why not ?" said Frank; "do you mean to say you don't believe me?
That's it,--isn't it, maister ?" "Ah, Maister Digby! ye're at yer jokes," said the old man.
"Jokes!" said Frank, with a serious air.