The Count, with the most alarming solemnity, sighed and shook his head.
“Must I really hear them?”
He shrugged his shoulders (it was the first foreign thing he had done since he had been in the room), and looked at me in an unpleasantly penetrating manner. My instincts told me that I had better close my eyes. I obeyed my instincts.
“Please break it gently,” I pleaded. “Anybody dead?”
“Dead!” cried the Count, with unnecessary foreign fierceness. “ Mr. Fairlie, your national composure terrifies me. In the name of Heaven, what have I said or done to make you think me the messenger of death?”
“Pray accept my apologies,” I answered. “You have said and done nothing. I make it a rule in these distressing cases always to anticipate the worst. It breaks the blow by meeting it halfway, and so on. Inexpressibly relieved, I