"Well, the trouble has killed him—broken his heart, people say. He had a stroke yesterday morning, and now he's dead."
"Well, people must die some day," he said, with averted eyes.
"Yes, that is true. But I think if I were in Lord St. Goram's place I should feel very unhappy."
"Why should Lord St. Goram feel unhappy?"
"Well, because he profited by the poor man's misfortune."
"What do you know about it?" he snapped almost angrily.
"Only what Ralph Penlogan told me."
"What, that young rascal who refused to open the gate for you?"
"That was just as much my fault as his, and he has apologised very handsomely since."
"I am surprised, Dorothy, that you condescend to speak to such people," he said severely.