The Ancient almost whimpered:
“If so be as I do, you’ll stop my—my——” the right word planted securely in his memory by Agatha slipped out unexpectedly—“doles.”
“Doles! doles! What an extraordinary word for you to use to me!”
“ ’Twas Aggie’s word, not mine, my lady. I means the milk and good wine you sends me.”
“Oh!” Lady Selina glanced at Agatha, who by this time was expressionless. To Nicodemus she said tartly:
“I may stop your doles, if you disobey me.”
“Timothy Farleigh be daffy, my lady.”
“I insist upon being told what Timothy said, and at once.”
Nicodemus, helplessly cornered, exploded with brutal violence.
“He said you might go to hell, my lady.”