"I wish I were. I found it anything but a joke, and I am afraid that you are not likely to find it one either."
Sir Tristram removed his glasses. He held them in his hand. His face became hard and stern.
"May I ask your Grace to be more explicit?"
The Duke turned. Placing one elbow upon the arm of his chair, he looked at Sir Tristram as he leaned his chin upon his hand.
"Triggs, Miss Cullen has applied to me to issue a warrant against you for assault."
"Surely such an application was irregular?"
"I am not so sure of that--I am not so sure. Anyhow, I told her that it was. The only result of which, so far as I can judge, will be that she will make the application, in more regular form, either to me or to someone else to-morrow. But that is not the point. Triggs, did you do it?"
"Is it necessary that your Grace should ask me?"
"You didn't kiss her?"
Sir Tristram took out his handkerchief. He actually gasped for breath. It is to be feared that at that moment the representative of English law almost told a lie. However, it was only almost; not quite. He merely temporised.