He would have to try what blandishments would do.
"Are you aware who I am?" he asked, blandly.
"What does it matter? I've got the other one, and no doubt he will be
identified by the police. If he doesn't say too much he may get off with
a light sentence. It is quite easy to see that you are the greater
scoundrel of the two."
"My dear young lady, do you actually take me for a burglar?"
There was a note of deep pain in Henson's voice. He had dropped into a
chair again, with a feeling of utter weakness upon him. The girl's
resolute mien and the familiar way in which she handled her revolver
filled him with the deepest apprehension.
"I am a very old friend and relative of Lord Littimer's," he said.
"Oh, indeed. And is the other man a relative of Lord Littimer's also?"
"Oh, why, confound it, yes. The other man, as you call him, is Lord
Littimer's only son."
Christabel glanced at Henson, not without admiration.
"Well, you are certainly a cool hand," she said. "You are two clever
thieves who have come here for the express purpose of robbing Lord
Littimer of one of his art treasures. I happen to catch one, and he
immediately becomes the son of the owner of the place.
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