The room was dreadfully light. I could not make out which was which of the men in black standing about, till he came up to me and took my hand; and the touch of him fired up my life like a flaming match fires spirits of wine. Then I again saw—heard—thought—and suffered the anguish of your loss acutely. The lawyer, sitting at your table, in your chair, read your will, and the awful shame settled about me that I shall never be able to lift off myself, never!
You left all your money and property to him, with the condition that he married me. That was all. You never made any arrangement for anyone else, or for anything else, should he refuse, or I refuse.
If you could have heard the desecration of your name which followed!
Old Mr. Pym, Roderick’s father, that pinched old man like a sick weasel, got up and said he should oppose your will, which was evidently drawn up when you were of unsound mind.
At this I started up, and said that I should defend it. You had never been of unsound mind.
Mr. Mervyn proposed that discussions, if any, should be postponed.
I said, “Certainly.”
This conversation made me feel all anger.
Then Mr. Pym proposed a private interview with me.
I said: “Yes; will you please come into the drawing-room?”