Gower called in the nurse, and went downstairs. He wanted the address of Lady Arpington’s town house.
‘You have a letter for her?’ said Livia, and held her hand for it in a way not to be withstood.
‘There’s no superscription,’ he remarked.
‘I will see to that, Mr. Woodseer.’
‘I fancy I am bound, Lady Fleetwood.’
‘By no means.’ She touched his arm. ‘You are Lord Fleetwood’s friend.’
A slight convulsion of the frame struck the admiral’s shirt-collar at his ears; it virtually prostrated him under foot of a lady so benign in overlooking the spectacle he presented. Still, he considered; he had wits alive enough, just to perceive a duty.
‘The letter was entrusted to me, Lady Fleetwood.’
‘You are afraid to entrust it to the post?’
‘I was thinking of delivering it myself in town.’