“Peacock!” shouted Candy.
“Candy!” vociferated Peacock.
“Sir!” exclaimed the furious Mr. P., “had I known that Candy was the name of the man, sir, whom I was addressing, sir, my conduct you would have found, sir, of a very different character!”
“And had I been aware,” retorted the exasperated Mr. C., “that Peacock was the title of the fellow” (and he laid a forty-horse power of emphasis upon the word) “with whom I have been conversing, my card would never have been delivered to him but with a different motive.”
“Fellow, sir! I think you said—Fellow, sir!”
“I did, sir,—fellow was the word I used, and I repeat it—fellow—fellow!”
“You do, sir! and I throw back in your teeth, sir, with the addition of fool, sir!”
“Fool!—no, no—not quite a fool—only near one, sir!”
“You’re a conceited puppy, sir!”
“And you are an impudent scoundrel, sir!”