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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"The White Company"


"And if you could drink yourself in, old leather-head, you had
been first baron of the realm," cried the aggrieved Humphrey.
"But how of England, my lads of Loring?"
"I take it," said Ford, "that it is much as it was when you were
there last, save that perchance there is a little less noise
there."
"And why less noise, young Solomon?"
"Ah, that is for your wit to discover."
"Pardieu! here is a paladin come over, with the Hampshire mud
still sticking to his shoes. He means that the noise is less for
our being out of the country."
"They are very quick in these parts," said Ford, turning to
Alleyne.
"How are we to take this, sir?" asked the ruffling squire.
"You may take it as it comes," said Ford carelessly.
"Here is pertness!" cried the other.
"Sir, I honor your truthfulness," said Ford.
"Stint it, Humphrey," said the tall squire, with a burst of
laughter. "You will have little credit from this gentleman, I
perceive. Tongues are sharp in Hampshire, sir."
"And swords?"
"Hum! we may prove that. In two days' time is the vepres du
tournoi, when we may see if your lance is as quick as your wit.


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