“If it is true,” said the Archbishop, “it is best to say it. We want nothing but the bare truth.”
“But I cannot bear it,” cried the old man again.
Chris came round behind the Archbishop to his father.
“Will you leave it, father, to my Lord Archbishop? My Lord understands what we think.”
Sir James looked at him, dazed and bewildered.
“God help us! Do you think so, Chris?”
“I think so, father. My Lord, you understand all?”
The Archbishop bowed again slightly.
“Then, my Lord, we will leave it all in your hands.”
There was a tap at the door.