‘Exactly. Died a couple of hours ago, after lying insensible all day, poor old man! I’ve just written your people a formal announcement. Now, what do you think of that? If you don’t mind, old fellow.’
He filled himself another glass, and tilted it off as before. Scawthorne had dropped his eyes to the ground, and stood in meditation.
‘Now what about the will?’ pursued Joseph.
‘You haven’t looked for it?’ questioned his friend with an odd look.
‘Thought it more decent to wait a few hours. The girl was about, you see, and what’s more, my wife was. But have you heard anything since I saw you?’
‘Why, yes. A trifle.’
‘Out with it! What are you grinning about? Don’t keep me on hot coals.’
‘Well, it’s amusing, and that’s the fact. Take another glass of sherry; you’ll need support.’
‘Oh, I’m prepared for the worst. He’s cut me out altogether, eh? That comes of me meddling with the girl’s affairs—damnation! When there wasn’t the least need, either.’
‘A bad job. The fact is, Percival had a letter from him at midday yesterday. The senior had left the office; young Percival opened the letter, and spoke to me about it. Now, prepare yourself. The letter said that he had destroyed his former will, and would come to the office on Monday—that’s to-morrow—to give instructions for a new one.’