I appeal to Mrs. Duke--it's her house."
"Mrs. Duke?" repeated Inglewood doubtfully.
"Yes, Mrs. Duke," said Michael firmly, "commonly called the Iron Duke."
"If you ask Auntie," said Diana quietly, "she'll only be for doing nothing
at all. Her only idea is to hush things up or to let things slide.
That just suits her."
"Yes," replied Michael Moon; "and, as it happens, it just suits
all of us. You are impatient with your elders, Miss Duke;
but when you are as old yourself you will know what Napoleon knew--
that half one's letters answer themselves if you can only refrain
from the fleshly appetite of answering them."
He was still lounging in the same absurd attitude, with his elbow
on the grate, but his voice had altered abruptly for the third time;
just as it had changed from the mock heroic to the humanly indignant,
it now changed to the airy incisiveness of a lawyer giving
good legal advice.
"It isn't only your aunt who wants to keep this quiet if
she can," he said; "we all want to keep it quiet if we can.
Look at the large facts--the big bones of the case. I believe
those scientific gentlemen have made a highly scientific mistake.
I believe Smith is as blameless as a buttercup.
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