The things we do!

"What does it matter to me?" bursts out the Marquis, garnishing his
conversation with the usual expletives which adorned his eloquence when
he was strongly moved. "What do I care for Barnes Newcome, and his
confounded affairs and family? I never want to see him again, but in the
light of a banker, when I go to the City, where he keeps my account. I
say, I have nothing to do with him, or all the Newcomes under the sun.
Why, one of them is a painter, and will paint my dog, Ratcatcher, by
Jove! or my horse, or my groom, if I give him the order. Do you think I
care for any one of the pack? It's not the fault of the Marchioness of
Farintosh that her family is not equal to mine. Besides two others in
England and Scotland, I should like to know what family is? I tell you
what, Hench. I bet you five to two, that before an hour is over my mother
will be here, and down on her knees to me, begging me to break off this
engagement."
"And what will you do, Farintosh?" asks Henchman, slowly, "Will you break
it off?"
"No!" shouts the Marquis.


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