Mr. Spedding made an impatient movement of his hand.
“I do not inquire into your business,” Jimmy went on smoothly enough, “and I am wholly incurious as to in what strange manner you became acquainted with your late client, or what fees you received to undertake so extraordinary a commission; but I am satisfied that you are recompensed for such trifling inconveniences as—say an after-dinner visit from myself.”
Jimmy had a way of choosing his words, hesitating for the exact expression that would best convey every shade of his meaning. The lawyer, too, recognized the logic of the speech, and contented himself with a shrug which meant nothing.
“I do not inquire into your motives,” Jimmy resumed; “it pleases me to believe that they are entirely disinterested, that your attitude is the ideal one as between client and agent.”
His pause was longer this time, and the lawyer was piqued into interjecting an impatient—
“Well?”
“Well,” said Jimmy slowly, “believing all this, let us say, I am at a loss to know why at the reading of the will you gave us no indication of the existence of a key to this mysterious verse.”
“There is no key,” said the lawyer quickly, and added, “so far as I know.”
“That you did not tell us,” Jimmy went on, as though unconscious of any interruption, “of the big red envelope——”
Spedding sprang to his feet white as death.