For the second time Lord Pomfret went down.
Again he got up, to hurl himself at his assailant, mouthing obscenity.
Anthony side-stepped and hit him under the jaw as hard as he could.
Lord Pomfret fell flat on his back and lay perfectly still….
The silence was broken by the sound of a dry laugh.
Anthony swung on his heel, to see the Marquess of Banff in the library doorway.
"He's got a lot to learn yet," observed that nobleman, glancing at his recumbent offspring. "A deuce of a lot." He put up his eyeglasses and stared at Anthony. "If I'd known you could box, you should have given him a hour a day. Too late now. You'll have to go, of course. What are your wages?"
"Six pounds a month, my lord," stammered Anthony.
The Marquess took out a note-case and extracted six notes.
"Does he owe you anything?" he said, peering.