"I don't agree with you."
"Peter, dear boy, come away from your golden throne."
Marbury smoothed his face. "I suppose this means you're going down for good."
"Thank Heaven for that!"
"Look me up in London. I'm going down myself next term."
"Sick of it?" asked Peter.
"Not at all. But my uncle is far from well, and I'm next man on the estate. I have just been seeing the lawyers."
"We're going different ways, Marbury."
"Stuff."
"I'm in the other camp," Peter insisted.