“Redwood,” said Bensington; “it’s a curious thing to say, I know, but—do you think Winkles understands?”
“What?”
“Just what it is we have made.
“Does he really understand,” said Bensington, dropping his voice and keeping his eye doorward, “that in the Family—the Family of his new patient—”
“Go on,” said Redwood.
“Who have always been if anything a little under—under—”
“The Average?”
“Yes. And so very tactfully undistinguished in any way, he is going to produce a royal personage—an outsize royal personage—of that size. You know, Redwood, I’m not sure whether there is not something almost—treasonable ...”
He transferred his eyes from the door to Redwood.
Redwood flung a momentary gesture—index finger erect—at the fire. “By Jove!” he said, “he doesn’t know!”