“Oh yes,” he said, hastily; “glorious!”
“Nice and bright and shining, and makes a man seem worth looking at when it’s on, eh?”
“Yes,” said Marcus, with a faint sigh.
“How proud you felt when you’d got yours; eh, my lad?”
“Yes, very,” said Marcus.
“Nice dress to walk in.”
“But it’s rather heavy in this hot weather,” ventured Marcus.
“Heavy, boy? Why, of course it is. If it wasn’t heavy the barbarians’ swords and spears would go through it as if it was sheep skin. But yours fits you beautifully, and will for ever so long yet—if you don’t grow,” added the man, slily.
Marcus turned upon him peevishly.
“Well, I can’t help growing, can I?” he cried.