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k the driver how far round on the road it was to the other end of the cross-cut. Morsfield, entirely objecting to asinine harness with him, mocked at his invocation and intonation of the name of Jove. Cumnock was thereupon stung to a keen recollection of the allusion to his knock-down blow, and he retorted that there were some men whose wit was the parrot's. Morsfield complimented him over the exhibition of a vastly superior and more serviceable wit, in losing sight of his antagonist after one trial of him. Cumnock protested that the loss of time was caused by his friend's dalliance with the Venus in the chariot. Morsfield's gall seethed at a flying picture of Mrs. Pagnell, coupled with the retarding reddened handkerchief business, and he recommended Cumnock to pay court to the old woman, as the only chance he would have of acquaintanceship with the mother of Love. Upon that Cumnock confessed in humility to his not being wealthy. Morsfield looked a willingness to do the deed he might have to pay for in tenderer places than the pocket, and named the head as a seat of poverty with him. Cumnock then yawned a town fop's advice to a hustling street passenger to apologize for his rudeness before it was too late. Whereat Morsfield, certain that his parasitic thrasyleon apeing coxcomb would avoid extremities, mimicked him execrably. Now this was a second breach of the implied convention existing among the exquisitely fine-bred silken-slender on the summits of our mundane sphere, which demands of them all, that they respect one another's affectations. It is commonly done, and so the costly people of a single pattern contrive to push forth, flatteringly to themselves, luxuriant shoots of individuality in their orchidean glass-house. A violation of the rule is a really deadly personal attack. Captain Cumnock was particularly sensitive regarding it, inasmuch as he knew himself not the natural performer he strove to be, and a mimicry affected him as a haunting check. He burst out: 'Damned if I don't understand why you're hated by men and women both!' Morsfield took a shock. 'Infernal hornet!' he muttered; for his conquests had their secret history. 'May and his wife have a balance to pay will trip you yet, you 'll find.' 'Reserve your wrath, sir, for the man who stretched you on your back.' The batteries of the two continued exchangeing redhot shots, with the effect, that they had to call to mind they
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