“Oh!” said Shelton; “wait a minute, Uncle Ted.”
Mr. Paramor waited, biting his pencil; a smile flickered on his mouth, and was decorously subdued. It was Shelton's turn to walk about.
“If she marries again,” he repeated to himself.
Mr. Paramor was a keen fisherman; he watched his nephew as he might have watched a fish he had just landed.
“It's very usual,” he remarked.
Shelton took another turn.
“She forfeits,” thought he; “exactly.”
When he was dead, he would have no other way of seeing that she continued to belong to him. Exactly!
Mr. Paramor's haunting eyes were fastened on his nephew's face.
“Well, my dear,” they seemed to say, “what 's the matter?”