Sir Clinton's gesture assured him that he had made himself sufficiently clear.
“I have nothing to say against my brother-in-law, you follow me?” Renard went on. “It was a case of ‘Marry in haste and repent at leisure,’ as your English proverb says. They were unsuited to each other, but that was no fault of theirs. When they discovered each other—their real selves—it is clear that they decided to make the best of it. I had nothing to say. I was sorry that my sister had not found a husband more suited to her temperament; but I am not one who would make trouble by sympathising too much.”
“I quite understand, Mr. Renard,” Sir Clinton intervened, with the obvious intention of cutting short this elaborate exposition of the self-evident.
“Now I come to the important point,” Renard went on. “At the time of the marriage, or shortly afterwards—I do not know your English law about testaments very well—my brother-in-law transferred part of his property in stocks and shares to my sister. It was some question of Death Duties, I was told. If he died first, then she would have had to pay on his whole estate; but by transferring some of his property to her, this could be avoided. In case of his death, she would have to pay only on what he had retained in his own name. It is, I understand, a usual precaution in the circumstances.”
“It's often done,” Sir Clinton confirmed. “By the way, Mr. Renard, can you give me some idea of how much he transferred to her on their marriage?”
“I cannot give you the precise figures,” Renard explained. “I have seen the lawyer's accounts, of course; but they were involved, and I have no good memory for figures. It was only a few hundred pounds—a mere drop in the bucket, as you would say in English. My brother-in-law is not a rich man, not by any means. But the sum itself is of little importance. It is the sequel which is of more interest, as you shall see.”
He leaned forward in his chair as though to fix Sir Clinton's attention.
“When my brother-in-law transferred this little property to my sister, they each made their testament. That, I believe, was on the advice of a lawyer. By his will, my brother-in-law left all his property to my sister. He had no relations, so far as I have learned; and that seemed very fair. The second will, my sister's, was in identical terms, so far as the principal clauses went. All her property in stocks, shares, and money, went to my brother-in-law. There was a little provision at the end which left to me a few small souvenirs, things of sentimental value only. It seemed very fair in the circumstances. I suggest nothing wrong. How could there be anything wrong?”
“It seems a normal precaution in the circumstances,” Sir Clinton assured him. “Naturally, if she died first, he would expect to get his own property back again—less the Death Duties, of course.”
“It was a very small affair,” Renard emphasised. “If I had been consulted, I should certainly have advised it. But I was not consulted. It was no business of mine, except that I was made a trustee. I am not one who mixes himself up with affairs which do not concern him.”