"Is it safe here?" she asked at once. "Is there no fear of anybody hearing what we may say?"
"None!" answered Pratt reassuringly. "I know these folks—I've lived here several years. And nobody could hear however much they put their ears to the keyhole. Good thick old walls, these, Mrs. Mallathorpe, and a solid door. We're as safe here as we were in your study last night."
Mrs. Mallathorpe sat down in the chair which Pratt politely drew near his fire. She raised her veil and looked at him, and the clerk saw at once how curious and eager she was.
"That—will!" she said, in a low voice. "Let me see it—first."
"One moment," answered Pratt. "First—you understand that I'm not going to let you handle it. I'll hold it before you, so you can read it. Second—you give me your promise—I'm trusting you—that you'll make no attempt to seize it. It's not going out of my hands."
"I'm only a woman—and you're a strong man," she retorted sullenly.
"Quite so," said Pratt. "But women have a trick of snatching at things. And—if you please—you'll do exactly what I tell you to do. Put your hands behind you! If I see you make the least movement with them—back goes the will into my pocket!"
If Pratt had looked more closely at her just then, he would have taken warning from the sudden flash of hatred and resentment which swept across Mrs. Mallathorpe's face—it would have told him that he was dealing with a dangerous woman who would use her wits to circumvent and beat him—if not now, then later. But he was moving the gas bracket over the mantelpiece, and he did not see.
"Very well—but I had no intention of touching it," said Mrs.
Mallathorpe. "All I want is to see it—and read it."
She obediently followed out Pratt's instructions, and standing in front of her he produced the will, unfolded it, and held it at a convenient distance before her eyes. He watched her closely, as she read it, and he saw her grow very pale.