Lord Grope had to admit this solicitor chap had done his homework.
Gibberish, meanwhile, stood at the drinks cabinet, a bottle of Scotch in his hands and an empty glass before him. Throughout Grimper’s explanation, Gibberish had stood rooted in fear, lest his own name be mentioned. It wasn’t. If you’ve been paying attention, you’d know that. But was Grimper withholding it for some reason? Gibberish remained motionless, deep in disturbed thought.
Lord Grope, agitated, blustering, yelled out
Gibberish was unmoved.
Once again: “Scotch, Gibberish?”
The words sunk in at last.
“Only on my mother’s side, m’Lord,” he replied.