"Is that so?" Lord Lyndhurst laughed, gesturing for Disraeli to find a chair and sit down. "Sounds like you've brought us good news."
Disraeli coughed lightly, hung his hat on the coat rack, and seated himself with his hands folded on his knees. "Your Excellency, I have brought his stance, or, more accurately, his silence."
The room fell silent for a few seconds.
Peel stared into Disraeli's eyes, as if assessing whether this Jewish lad was lying. "Did he deny it?"
"He... neither denied nor admitted it," Disraeli spoke with caution. "However, from my conversation with him, one thing is certain; he truly doesn't know the origin of 'Lady Melbourne's' nickname nor what Fleet Street has been up to this past fortnight."
