"I—I don't know. I can't say. At all events he threatened to kill my uncle, and the old man was killed the very next night!"
"He was not killed by Jabez."
"How do you know that?"
"Because I am sure of it. Jabez had no reason to harm Mr. Barton. As to the will, I will only ask you—to put it on the lowest possible grounds—what had I to gain by its disappearance?"
"This, that you wanted to see me done out of the money. You know how you were always preaching to me on that subject, and urging me not to take it, saying that it would be my ruin, and I don't know what else!"
"And so it would have been. You know well that if you had inherited that money you would have been in your grave by now."
"Now look here, Miriam, I've had about enough of this. I'll drink what I jolly well please. Here goes." He poured out nearly half a tumbler of whiskey, and drank it down. "Now then, what have you to say?"
"Nothing, Gerald—for the present—further than I think you had better go to bed."
"Oh, that's just like you—after you have riled a chap. 'Pon my soul, Miriam, you're the most exasperating woman I know. You're always ready to go for me; you take precious good care, though, not to tell me much about yourself."
"You know everything about me, Gerald."