“Well, he told you something, did not he?” persisted Lady Alice.
“In the sense of a distinct disclosure, nothing,” said the Bishop, looking demurely over his horizontal leg on the neatly-shorn grass. “He did speak to me upon subjects—his wishes, and I have no doubt he intended to have been much more explicit. In fact, he intimated as much; but he was overtaken by death—unable to speak when I saw him next morning.”
“He spoke to you, I know, about pulling down or blowing up that green chamber,” said Lady Alice, whose recollections grew a little violent in proportion to the Bishop’s reserve and her own impatience.