“Don't.”
“But I will ask you a simpler and easier question.”
“What is it?”
“When are you going to marry her?”
Lord Robert burst into ironical laughter and faced round to Drake.
“Well, these men—these curates—their assurance, don't you know... May I ask your reverence what is your position in this matter—your standing, don't you know?”
“That of chaplain of the hospital.”
“But you say she has been, turned out of it.”
“Very well, Lord Robert, merely that of a man who intends to protect an injured woman.”
“Oh, I know,” said Lord Robert dryly, “I understand these heroics. I've heard of your sermons, Mr. Storm—your interviews with ladies, and so forth.”