"This is a glorious title," said Gage, clipping out the words with bitter intensity. "I am having a ripping time with it. It's a fine thing to be alive just now."
"All things considered, it's lucky we are alive," was Peckover's dry but feeling response.
CHAPTER XXXII
"Tell you what it is, Percival, my boy," said Gage at breakfast next morning; "I've had about enough of nobility. Grandeur and aristocracy have too many inconveniences to suit me. I've a mind to clear out, and hand you back this precious title of yours."
Peckover laughed awkwardly. "Don't do that yet awhile, old man," he urged. "You haven't given it a fair trial."
"It has given me one," was the prompt and pointed retort. "And it strikes me if I don't look sharp and get out of the peacock's feathers I shall soon be pecked to death. That Salolja chap last night was an eye-opener."
"Unpleasant customer," his friend agreed.
"Unpleasant? Noisy little devil!"
"Barking dogs don't bite," observed Peckover, but without conviction.