“Why do you choose to remind me of that to-night?” he asked sullenly, trying to assert himself.
Eustace took his hand from his shoulder, and fixed his gloomy eyes upon him:
“As I stood in the shadows of your hall just now,” said he slowly, “Anthony Baddlesmere passed out.”
Pangbutt uttered a light cynical laugh:
“What?” said he—“without nodding to you?”
Lovegood’s great brows met in a black frown:
“His eyes were on a broken career.... But I saw that he had not yet become a good beggar.”
A sneer curled the bearded lips of the other:
“And you?” he asked flippantly.
“I am better practised.... I have come to beg for him.”