CHAPTER XXVIII
CENTURIES TO FORGET
"My lord," said Saunders the next day, appearing before his lordship after an agitated hour of preparation, "it's come to a point where something's got to be done." He got that far and then turned quite purple; his collar seemed to be choking him.
"Quite right, Saunders," said Deppingham, replacing his eyeglass nervously, "but who's going to do it and what is there to be done?"
"I'm—er—afraid you don't quite understand, sir," mumbled the little solicitor, glancing uneasily over his shoulder. "If what Mr. Chase says is true, we've got a precious short time to live. Well, we've—we've concluded to get all we can out of the time that's left, my lord."
"I see," said the other, but he did not see.
"So I've come to ask if it will be all right with you and her ladyship, sir. We don't want to do anything that would seem forward and out of place, sir."
"It's very considerate of you, Saunders; but what the devil are you talking about?"