'It's all right, Vi,' she whispered. Instead, therefore, of that retort, Vi addressed him an inquiry, in even, measured tones.
'Have you quite finished with me?'
'What a girl! Doug--she does you--proud.'
A peculiar sound proceeded from his throat, which was perhaps intended for a chuckle. His hand dropped. Vi stood up. We were silent. A feeling of awkwardness was in the air; a consciousness that Vi had struck an inharmonious note. Hancock relieved the situation--or tried to.
'I think now, my lord, if you were to take a little sleep.'
'Hang--sleep. Shan't I--have enough--sleep soon?'
Foster proffered his suggestion.
'Will your lordship be pleased to attach your signature?'
'Foster!'
'My lord?'