‘I’m sure he did. Any man——’
‘While he was alive.’
‘Yes—while he was alive, of course,’ agreed Christopher; and remarked that he couldn’t very well do it while he wasn’t.
‘But that’s just what he tried to do. That’s just what he thinks—oh, poor darling, I don’t know if he’s able to think now, but it’s what he did think he had done.’
‘What did he think he had done?’
‘Arranged my future as carefully as he was accustomed to arrange my present. You see, he was very fond of me——’
‘Any man——’
‘And he was obsessed by a fear that somebody might want to’—her face, to his relief, broke into amusement again—‘might want to marry me.’
‘Any man——’ began Christopher again, with the utmost earnestness.
‘Oh, but listen,’ she said, making a little gesture. ‘Listen. He never thought he’d die—not for ages, anyhow. One doesn’t. So he naturally supposed that by the time he did I’d be too old for anybody to want to marry me for what’—her eyes were smiling—‘is called myself. George was rich, you see.’