"But that's most naughty, old boy, isn't it?"
"Not when you have a good reason."
Henry held up the decanter and looked at the small amount of wine that was left. He shook his head sadly. "But who's going to be your victim?"
"You," answered George.
"Me?" said Henry, smiling.
"Yes, you."
"Are you mad?"
"No."
Henry stopped smiling and his face grew a trifle pale. He suddenly had the sickening feeling that George wasn't kidding him any more. "But why me?"