He seemed to be addressing a servant, if one could judge from the tone in which he spoke.
"Then call my carriage, lackey!"
"Lackey!" cried Sir Percival, red with rage at the insult, thus forced upon him.
"Aye, lackey," repeated Moore, defiant and sneering in his turn. "And here is your pay!"
As he spoke, he struck the baronet a stinging slap in the face; then turned and strolled elegantly from the room.
Thus it was that Mr. Thomas Moore quitted the world of Fashion, which but a scant three months before he had entered in triumph by grace of the favor of His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales.
Book Four
"If every rose with gold were tied,
Did gems for dewdrops fall,
One faded leaf where love had sighed