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The Viscount stepped into the room. “Came to see if you was dead,” he said. “Laid Pom odds you weren’t.”Lethbridge passed his hand across his eyes. “I’m not,” he replied in a faint voice.”No. I’m sorry,” said the Viscount simply. He wandered over to the table and sat down. “Horry said she killed you, Pom said So she might, I said No. Nonsense.”Lethbridge still holding a hand to his aching head tried to pull himself together. “Did you?” he said. His eyes ran over his self invited guest. “I see. Let me assure you once more that I am very much alive.””Well I wish you’d put your wig on,” complained the Viscount. “What I want to know is why did Horry hit you on the head with a poker?”Lethbridge gingerly felt his bruised scalp. “With a poker was it? Pray ask her, though I doubt if she will tell you.””You shouldn’t keep the front door open,” said the Viscount. “What’s to stop people coming in and hitting you over the head? It’s preposterous.””I wish you’d go home,” said Lethbridge wearily.The Viscount surveyed the supper-table with a knowing eye.”Card-party?” he inquired.
