Arthur narrowed his eyes. “What good work you’re doing,” he said, with saccharine sincerity, as Westbrook reached for the snuffer. “After all, I’ve heard a bastard has no hope on Judgment Day. Then again, it’s hardly the abandoned child’s fault, is it, so I can’t imagine the judgment awaiting the man who made him that way.” He was gratified to see Westbrook flinch.
