"Dare say not," Quorn returned uncompromisingly. "Admitting for the sake of argument that was an unfortunate mistake, how about you and your friend annexing my place and title?"
Peckover's face showed bland surprise. "Me and my friend taking your place and title? What do you mean?"
"Oh," replied Quorn with impatient sarcasm, "we are dense this evening. It may astonish you, Mr. Alias Gage, but I rather fancy Staplewick Park and Towers belong to Lord Quorn."
"Who suggested they didn't?" asked Peckover wonderingly.
"I'd like to see the man, that's all," retorted Quorn. "And," he resumed, "I'm rather under the impression that I'm Lord Quorn."
"I dare say," was the prompt rejoinder. "But it doesn't follow you are that nobleman."
"What?" he roared.
"Don't make a noise," said Peckover, with a touch of dignity; "the servants aren't used to it."
"I say I am Lord Quorn," the other repeated with less volume but more intensity. "And you know it."
"But Lord Quorn says he's Lord Quorn," argued the wily Peckover with maddening plausibility. "That's all I know. I'm not the Heralds' College."