“Are you wise to do that, do you think?” he asked in a quick, anxious voice. “There may be something there which will pain you.”
“All his papers must be gone through,” said his father. “Have you any reason, Colin?”
“I can’t explain,” said Colin.
Papers were coming out of the pocket-book now, in no way perished by the long immersion; they were damp but they held together, and Colin glanced with a lynx’s eye at them as his father unfolded them. There were a couple of bills, he could see, which Philip laid on one side, and then he came to a half-sheet of foolscap.... He read a line or two, looked at the bottom of it and saw his own name....
“What is this?” he said. “It’s signed by Raymond and witnessed by you and me.”
“Don’t look at it, father,” said Colin, knowing that it was inevitable that his father must read anything that was witnessed by himself. “Let me take it and burn it.”
“No, I can’t do that,” said Philip. “What does this mean? What....”
“Ah! don’t read it, don’t read it!” said Colin in a voice of piteous pleading.
“I must.”
“Then listen to me instead. I will tell you.”