"Why impossible?" asked Drusilla. "Why, ain't the house big enough?"
"But my late client, Mr. Elias Doane—"
"Have you forgot the letter he wrote me: 'Spend the money your own way, Drusilla.'"
"But he certainly did not mean—"
"How do you know what he meant? He said spend it, and I ain't spent nothin' yet except on some foolish clothes. First thing I know I might die, then it wouldn't be spent, and I know I'd pass my days worryin' St. Peter to find out what had become of it."
Mr. Thornton threw up his hands again.
"Well, I don't know what to say more than I have said," he declared. "Have you decided on its disposition?"
Drusilla, seeing that the lawyer was surrendering, said quite meekly:
"I ain't figured out what is to be done jest now—"
Here Daphne came to her rescue.