“Oh, I’m not going to kill Sherry!” said his lordship carelessly. “What put that into your head?”
She released his coat, and stood staring at him. “But they told me — Gil and Ferdy — ”
“You don’t mean that that brace of gudgeons blabbed the whole thing to you?” George ejaculated.
“But what else could they do, when they thought you meant to kill Sherry?”
“Pooh! nonsense! Who said anything about killing anyone? Good God, Sherry’s a friend of mine!”
“Yes, but — but if you do not mean to beg his pardon, I am much afraid he will insist on fighting you,” said Hero.
“Oh, lord, yes! He’s a regular good ’un, Sherry!” said George, with the utmost cordiality.
Hero regarded him blankly. “George, if you mean to wound Sherry, I would much, much rather you did not!”
“No, no, I won’t hurt a hair of his head!” he assured her. “I shall delope.”
“What is that, please?”