In the reflection in the window, Arthur watched Malachi look to him, but did not turn to meet his gaze.  Was it so unusual to want to appear respectable and polite to a woman, someone's "mother"?  Even if they were to murder her, what she thought of him was still very important to the doctor.

"A brother," he repeated, glancing at the word's Malachi wrote in beautiful, elegant handwriting.  He tried to imagine Malachi meeting his own brothers, and his sister and father too.  Was it possible to impress them, if it was Arthur introducing Malachi to them?

He couldn't be sure, but for some reason, he suspected the answer was no.

"The father to your niece, I suppose?  Will he be there too, then?"  Will we kill him too?  "Tell me about him, please.  I'm so curious about you, Malachi."