"Far from it. Under the Law of Intestacy, Uncle Nat's property will be divided equally between his next of kin. That means that Joe will get half, and you and I will share the half that would have gone to Father, were he alive today."
Her eyes were fixed on his. "Are you sure?"
"No, I'm not sure of anything. That's what Blyth says."
She lifted her hands to her temples, pushing back the thick waves of her hair. "Good God, then we shall all be rich!"
"Depends how you look at it. You and Joe will be comparatively rich, while I shall be comparatively poor. Death duties will be heavy. I doubt if it will work out at more than eighty thousand pounds for Joseph, and forty thousand pounds to you and to me."
"Will you be able to keep on this place?" she asked.
"Hardly. It will be sold, and the proceeds pooled, I suppose."
"Oh, I'm sorry about that!" she said mechanically.
His lips twisted. "How sweet of you!" he mocked. He glanced towards Hemingway. "Interested, Inspector?"
"I'm always interested," Hemingway responded.