"What is that?" she asked.
"I want you to make a will. I don't care where you leave your property, so long as it is not to somebody you love."
She shivered.
"I don't like making wills. It's so gruesome."
"It will be more gruesome for you if you don't," he said significantly. "The Briggerlands are your heirs at law."
She looked at him quickly.
"So that is what you are aiming at? You think that all these plots are designed to put me out of the way so that they can enjoy my money?"
He nodded, and she looked at him wonderingly.
"If you weren't a hard-headed lawyer, I should think you were a writer of romantic fiction," she said. "But if it will please you I will make a will. I haven't the slightest idea who I could leave the money to. I've got rather a lot of money, haven't I?"
"You have exactly £160,000 in hard cash. I want to talk to you about that," said Jack. "It is lying at your bankers in your current account. It represents property which has been sold or was in process of being sold when you inherited the money, and anybody who can get your signature and can satisfy the bankers that they are bona fide payees, can draw every cent you have of ready money. I might say in passing that we are prepared for that contingency, and any large cheque will be referred to me or to my partner."