“It isn’t nonsense! I hit him with a p-poker as hard as I could, and he f-fell and lay quite still.”
“Where did you hit him?” demanded the Viscount.
“On the head,” said Horatia.
The Viscount looked at Sir Roland. “D’you suppose she killed him, Pom?”
“Might have,” said Sir Roland judicially.
“Lay you five to one she didn’t,” offered the Viscount.
“Done!” said Sir Roland.
“Tell you what,” said the Viscount suddenly. “I’m going to see.”
Horatia caught him by the skirts of his coat. “No, you sh-shan’t! You’ve got to take me home.”
“Oh, very well,” replied the Viscount, relinquishing his pur-pose. “But you’ve no business to go killing people with a poker at two in the morning. It ain’t genteel.”