“Dick, Dick,” he said banteringly, “what a fierce wooer you are! You have been saying something to offend the fair Cora. Come along.”
“Does it give you pleasure to banter me like this?”
“Banter, man? I was in earnest.”
They walked along the parade in silence, and had not gone far before they met the Master of the Ceremonies, who raised his hat stiffly, in response to their salutes, and passed on.
“Oh, man, man, why don’t you take the good the gods provide you, instead of sighing after what you cannot have.”
“Mellersh,” said Richard, as if he had not heard him, “if I make up my mind to leave Saltinville, will you pay a good deal of attention to the old man?”
“Leave—Saltinville?”
“Yes; I am sick of the place. I must go right away.”
“Stop a moment! Hold your tongue! There is that scoundrel, Rockley, with his gang.”
In effect, a group of officers came along in the opposite direction, and, but for the disposition shown them to avoid a quarrel, their offensive monopolisation of the whole of the path would have resulted in an altercation.