"Lord Quorn is very seriously ill," he said impressively. "Took a bad chill, and is suffering from congestion and—and fever. It is quite impossible that you should see him for at least a fortnight, if he isn't dead by that date."
"I'll see him, dead or alive," shouted Mr. Leo, who was making a tour of inspection round the apartment.
"Be calm, Carnaby," said his sister casually.
"It would kill him," observed Peckover, with conviction.
"Killing's too good for him," returned Carnaby, loudly.
"Hush, Carnaby!" the lady commanded.
"He is delirious," said Peckover, warming to his work.
"I'll bring him to his senses," growled Leo.
"Better leave him to me for the present," suggested Miss Leo.
"He wouldn't recognize you, or you him," said Peckover, for once touching upon the truth.