A far, faint echoing of thunder filled the silence of their voices. Heavy rain splashed upon the pavement.
'She said to me just before her death,' resumed Christian, '"I have ill luck when I try to do a kindness—but perhaps there is one more chance." I didn't know what she meant till afterwards. Peak, she has left nearly all her money to you.'
Godwin knew it before the words were spoken. His heart leaped, and only the dread of being observed enabled him to control his features. When his tongue was released he said harshly:
'Of course I can't accept it.'
The words were uttered independently of his will. He had no such thought, and the sound of his voice shook him with alarm.
'Why can't you?' returned Christian.
'I have no right—it belongs to you, or to some other relative—it would be'——
His stammering broke off. Flushes and chills ran through him; he could not raise his eyes from the ground.
'It belongs to no one but you,' said Moxey, with cold persistence. 'Her last wish was to do you a kindness, and I, at all events, shall never consent to frustrate her intention. The legacy represents something more than eight hundred a year, as the investments now stand. This will make you independent—of everything and everybody.' He looked meaningly at the listener. 'Her own life was not a very happy one; she did what she could to save yours from a like doom.'
Godwin at last looked up.