The things we do!

Clive Newcome very well knew, to himself; that if further
insult was offered, or outrage attempted, Sir Barnes should resort to the
police for protection; that he was about to quit London, and certainly
should not delay his departure on account of Mr. Clive Newcome's
monstrous proceedings; and that he desired to take leave of an odious
subject, as of an individual whom he had striven to treat with kindness,
but from whom, from youth upwards, Sir Barnes Newcome had received
nothing but insolence, enmity, and ill-will."
"He is an ill man to offend," remarked Mr. Pendennis. "I don't think he
has ever forgiven that claret, Clive."
"Pooh! the feud dates from long before that," said Clive; "Barnes wanted
to lick me when I was a boy, and I declined: in fact, I think he had
rather the worst of it; but then I operated freely on his shins, and that
wasn't fair in war, you know."
"Heaven forgive me," cries the Colonel; "I have always felt the fellow
was my enemy: and my mind is relieved now war is declared.


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