I watched him miserably while he ate and looked through all the newspapers.
“That’s fine,” he said. “That settles that! The old boys certainly were nice to me!—Better than I deserve! Looks as if we were going to have money in the bank!”
Then he picked up the letter.
“Read it,” I whispered. But I could not bear to see him, and I got up and would have run away. He caught me in the doorway and, his arms around me, kissed away my fears.
“I’m glad the old woman’s drowned!” he cried.
“Oh no, don’t say that!”
“Aren’t you?”
“But don’t put it that way!”
“What way? What’s the difference what way we put it, so long as she’s out of it and we can get the house!”
“Shall we get it?”