He floundered in his conversation with the ladies, his neighbours: George's coolness only rendering him more angry.

It made him half mad to see the calm way in which George, flapping his napkin, and with a swaggering bow, opened the door for the ladies to leave the room; and filling himself a glass of wine, smacked it, and looked his father full in the face, as if to say, "Gentlemen of the Guard, fire first." The old man also took a supply of ammunition, but his decanter clinked against the glass as he tried to fill it.
After giving a great heave, and with a purple choking face, he then began.

"How dare you, sir, mention that person's name before Miss Swartz to-day, in my drawing-room?
I ask you, sir, how dare you do it ?" "Stop, sir," says George, "don't say dare, sir.

Dare isn't a word to be used to a Captain in the British Army." "I shall say what I like to my son, sir.

I can cut him off with a shilling if I like.