Till the Clock Stops
Bullard threw his cold cigar into the fire and lit a fresh one with care. With smoke coming from his lips he said softly, "Your brother was devilishly badly treated in that land deal, Christopher. Lancaster and I would have helped him out, had it been possible--wouldn't we, Lancaster?"
Lancaster cleared his throat. "Oh, surely!"
"Thanks," said Christopher. "Of course we've gone over all that before, and I'd thought I had spoken of it for the last time. Only now I feel I'd die a bit happier if I could bring to book the man or men who ruined him. But that cannot be, so let us change the subject with these words, 'They shall have their reward.'"
"Amen!" said Bullard, in clear tones.
Lancaster took out his handkerchief and wiped his forehead.
Still gazing at the loch, Christopher continued--
"I will speak of the living--my nephew, Alan." He lifted his hand as though to check a contradictio