“Yes, indeed. ’Nother pinch of snuff.”
The box—sniff—snuff—snap.
“Like to know what I said to her?”
“My lord, I am a father.”
“Yes, Denville, I know it. Well.”
The old man changed the conversation to make another remark or two about some visitors, and then said, suddenly returning to the subject:
“Drelincourt asked me to get the lad a commission.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“You don’t think of letting that old harpy claw up the boy?”
“Oh, my lord!”