“There are some people one doesn’t want to know, Lady Grace.”
“And then we must make allowances,” she said. “Why do they call him Wicked Lord Stoyle?” she asked him, not abruptly, but in the same soft voice that most people found acted upon them like a caress.
“I don’t know. For good and fully sufficient reasons I’ve no doubt,” he replied.
“Do you think he has murdered anybody, now?” she inquired, with a smile.
“I don’t know. Perhaps. I daresay. At any rate, I’m quite sure a great many people must have longed to murder him.”
“Oh, fie!” she said, touching him with the edge of her fan; “and your uncle, too! I wonder what he has done?”
“I was just wondering what he hasn’t done,” said Lord Cecil, grimly.
She laughed.
“You amuse me, Lord Cecil.”
“I’m awfully glad,” he said. “I didn’t think it was in me to amuse any one to-night.”