“Oh I say! Just as if I was a monkey.”
“No; father meant a dog, or a puppy.” Joe gave himself a sudden twist round to face his companion, flushing with anger the while, and as the space on the top of the stone was very small, he nearly slipped off, and had to make a snatch at Gwyn to save himself from an ugly fall.
“There!” cried Gwyn, “you’re at it again. You’ve made up your mind to break your neck, or something else.”
“It was all your fault,” cried Joe, “saying things like that. I don’t believe your father said anything of the kind. It was just to annoy me.”
“What, do you suppose I wanted to go home with fresh trouble to talk about?”
“No, but it’s your nasty, bantering, chaffing way. Colonel Pendarve wouldn’t have spoken about me like that.”
Gwyn laughed.
“I suppose he didn’t say I had better give you up as a companion—”
“Did he?”
“If I was always getting into some scrape or another.”