There was no one else in the room save Mr. Jephson, the clerk, and myself, and the door was closed. I produced the draft will and said, addressing myself to the lady:
“You wish to make your will?”
“Yes; oh, yes.”
“And you wish to leave everything to your nephew?”
“Yes, to Ralph—to Rafy—everything.”
“Then please listen, madam, while I read this, it is very short.”
“Bring the candle nearer your face and let me look at you,” she said.
The request surprised me, but I could not well refuse it.
“No, no, you are not like him, my——Rafy; but he had blue eyes like yours——blue eyes, and you could see the gold glint in his hair.”