“He said we should have let him stand his trial. I wonder. I wonder.”
“He was wrong. We did what we could for Ludovic when we shipped him to France. Why tease yourself now?”
“You never liked him, did you?”
“You have only to add that I am something of a collector of antique jewellery, Sylvester, and you will have said very much what Basil has been saying, far more delicately, below stairs.”
“Don’t be a fool!” said Sylvester irritably. “I told you he’d do what he could to spoil your chances. Send him about his business!”
“You will have to excuse me, sir. This is not my house.”
“No, by God, and nor is it his! “ said Sylvester, shaken by a gust of anger. “The estate will be in ward when I die, and I have not made him a trustee!”
“Then you are doing him an injustice, sir. Who are your trustees?”
“My lawyer, Pickering, and yourself,” answered Sylvester.
“Good God, what induced you to name me?” said Shield. “I have not the smallest desire to manage your affairs!”