Davenant looked across at him inquiringly.

“George? Of Belmanoir? When?”

“Oh, at White’s one night⁠—I forget⁠—Jack Cholmondely was there⁠—he would know; and Horry Walpole. ’Twas of Devil and his light o’ loves⁠—quite apt, on the whole.”

Cholmondely looked up.

“Did I hear my name?”

“Ay. What was it George said of Belmanoir at White’s the night Gilly made that absurd bet with Ffolliott?”

“When Gilly⁠—oh, yes, I remember. ’Twas but an old hexameter tag, playing on his name: ‘ Est bellum bellis bellum bellare puellis .’ He seemed to think it a fitting motto for a ducal house.”

There was another general laugh at this. Markham broke in on it: