“No, of course he doesn’t; but this morning we found out that Carter and my stepfather are trying—the two of them—to raise money on the strength of the will.”
“Good Lord, how did you find out that?”
“A letter came to Sir Vernon from Sir John Bunnery, saying Woodman had approached him in confidence for a loan of sixty thousand pounds, on the joint security of his and my stepfather’s expectations. He said my stepfather had made him his heir.”
“Made whom?”
“Why, Carter. So that he stood to get the money any way.”
Ellery whistled. “My word, the plot thickens. And now let me tell you my news.”
And so the two lovers exchanged their information. Joan, in her anger against Carter Woodman, was now a good deal easier to convince. She admitted at once the force of Ellery’s evidence. If Woodman had lied, it was not likely that he had lied for nothing. Her anger for the time prevented her from realising the full horror of the position; but presently it came home to her. “Oh, poor Helen,” she said, “what are we to do? It will break her heart.”
“My dear we must clear this thing up now. We can’t leave it where it stands. You see that.”
Joan pulled herself together. “Yes, I suppose we have to go through with it.”
“And find positive proof.”