“Well, what do you mean to do?” Ulverston demanded.
“Nothing.”
“Famous!” said Ulverston. “That fairly beats the Dutch! I collect that a little thing like that — ” he jerked his chin towards the cord — “don’t even give you to think?”
“On the contrary, it gives me furiously to think. My reflections on this event may be false, and are certainly unpleasant, and with your good leave, Lucy, I’ll keep them to myself.”
“This won’t serve!” Ulverston said. “You cannot do nothing when an attempt has been made to kill you!”
“Very well, what would you wish me to do?” Gervase asked, laying down the paring-knife. He glanced at the Viscount’s scowling countenance, and smiled. “You don’t know, do you? Shall I announce to the household that I was thrown by such a trick? Or shall I accuse my brother of wishing to make away with me?”
“Send him packing!”
“On what grounds?”
“Good God, ain’t these grounds enough?”
“Yes, if I could prove them.”