She rose and walked out of the room as she spoke, with a quick, firm step, while Guy laughed rather scornfully.
“What an anachronism the dear old lady is!” he said. “As if all the world depended on Waynflete!”
“I don’t know what you mean!” said Godfrey, angrily. “I think she’s an awfully splendid old woman to have stuck to her point all her life and won it. Catch a highwayman stopping me!”
“My unlucky namesake said it was a ghost.”
“Well, but it wasn’t, you know. There aren’t any.”
“You’re the right heir for Aunt Margaret, Godfrey. She ought to leave you Waynflete.”
“Why; you’re the eldest,” said Godfrey; “she says interfering with natural laws is wicked.”
“If primogeniture is a natural law?”
“It’s the law of England,” said Godfrey, as if that settled the point.
Guy laughed again.