“I know that,” rejoined Maurice uneasily, “but I’m hanged if I’ll let him beat me. His bragging would never cease. Bravo, Crispin!”
Crispin had just made a bull’s eye, and was rejoicing in a modest way over his success, so Maurice, to encourage him, patted his shoulder.
“What a pity Eunice is not here to see!” said Roylands, laughing.
“I’m afraid Eunice would not appreciate my skill!”
“My dear lad, she would appreciate anything you did.”
“I don’t think her mother would!”
“As long as you have twelve thousand a year, Mrs. Dengelton will think you an Admirable Crichton.”
“Not without a name!”
“You have a name as good as any in England,” said Justinian, touching the poet on the shoulder, “and what it is I will tell you, when all these troubles are over.”
This was the first time the Demarch had spoken so plainly, and Crispin was much rejoiced thereat.