"Let's take it slowly," said Garrison, in his soothing way. "I imagine there has been either anger or hatred, spite or pique on the part of your stepbrother, Foster, towards John Hardy in the past."
"Yes—everything! Uncle John spoiled Foster at first, but when he found the boy was gambling in Wall Street, he cut him off and refused to supply him the means to pay off the debts he had contracted. Foster threatened at the time.
"The breach grew wider. Uncle didn't know he was married to Alice. Foster wouldn't let me tell. He had used up nearly all of Alice's money. She refused to mortgage anything more, after I took the necklaces, on a loan—and if Foster doesn't get ten thousand dollars in August I don't know what he'll do!"
Garrison was following the threads of this quickly delivered narrative as best he might. It revealed a great deal, but not all.
"I see," he commented quietly. "But how could Foster hope to profit by the death of Mr. Hardy?"
Dorothy turned very white again.
"He knew of the will."
"The will that was drawn in your favor?"
"Yes."
"And he thought that you were married, that the conditions of the will had been fulfilled?"