Jacqueline opened the door to him, and Mr. Westler steeled himself to kiss her on the forehead with cousinly affection.
"I was an awful swine the other day, Jackie. I don't know what could have been the matter with me. I've always been terribly selfish," he said with an effort, "and at the time I didn't really see how badly Granny had treated you. She didn't leave you anything except those letters, did she?"
"She left me a hundred dollars," said Jacqueline calmly.
"A hundred dollars I" said Harry indignantly. "After you'd given up everything else to take care of her. And she left me more than twenty thousand dollars and the house and everything else in it. It's — disgusting! But I don't have to take advantage of it, do I? I've been thinking a lot about it lately—"
Jacqueline lighted a cigarette and regarded him stonily.
"Thanks," she said briefly. "But I haven't asked you for any charity."
"It isn't charity," protested Mr. Westler virtuously. "It's just a matter of doing the decent thing. The lawyers have done their share — handed everything over to me and seen that the will was carried out. Now we can start again. We could pool everything again and divide it the way we think it ought to be divided."
"As far as I'm concerned, that's been done already."
"But I'm not happy about it. I've got all the money, and you know what I'm like. I'll probably gamble it all away in a few months."
"That's your affair."