“You are Lord St. Austell now,” she said, gently.
He honored the announcement with a start of surprise, but made no show of being deeply affected. There was a pause.
“How was it?” he asked, trying to keep his hands out of the pockets to which they instinctively felt their way.
“He was murdered, I think, by Amos Goodhare,” she answered in a whisper.
“Dear me, how very stupid of him to trust himself with Amos,” said the new earl, fretfully. “Have they caught him yet?”
“Not yet, I think.”
“Then I hope they won’t! I hope to God they won’t! It’s an awkward position, don’t you see? And the fellow does say such unpleasant things.”
Deborah was disgusted. But she had something of importance to say to this phlegmatic gentleman, and it was perhaps fortunate in one way that he was unemotional.
“I have a favor to ask of you,” she said.
He pricked up his ears. “A favor! It’s of no use asking favors of me, Miss Audaer. I’m not my unfortunate brother, you know,” he said hastily.