Lionel slammed down his empty glass.
“Traitors, father; I’m with Fishpingle, if an honest opinion is called treachery.”
“Good God! My own son against me.” But, quickly, he moderated his tone, saying testily: “There, there! ‘Traitor’ was too strong an expression. I withdraw it. But I stand firm on the other matter. I repeat: Prudence and Alfred are too near of kin.”
Lionel answered respectfully:
“You, sir, have proved Fishpingle’s case up to the hilt.”
“Eh? What d’ye mean, boy?”
“Fishpingle will read you an extract from an article written by you on this subject, won’t you, old chap?”
“With pleasure, Master Lionel.”
He crossed to his bookcase, opened a drawer below it, turned over some papers, and fished out a scrap-book.
“Something I wrote. All right! I stand by my own words—always have done. No chopping and changing for me!”