"Grevill," she repeated. I shall never forget how she said it. It
was as if her voice reached out and touched him tenderly.
"Lankester is more in his line," I said. "It's a question of
temperament, of fitness."
She said she knew that.
"And," I said, "of proportion. If he says what you want him to say
about your father, what can he say about Lankester?"
"But if he does Lankester first?"
"Then--if he says what you want him to say--he undoes everything he
has done for Lankester. And," I added, "_he's_ done for."