The notary stared at her; then he looked ruefully down at his resplendent, though already much crumpled, dress-shirt.
“I can’t help it,” continued Ursula, desperately. “It will only take you a moment—”
“Only a moment! Dear madame, documents of such importance—”
“Yes, only a moment. Just two sentences. That is all.”
The notary sat down with a sigh, and drew forward a sheet of paper. “You wish to say?” he asked, and shivered—twice. The first shiver was real, the second ostentatious.
The second caused Ursula to disbelieve both.
“Only this: if I die without other arrangements—”
“Pardon me. I must already interrupt you. You cannot die ‘with other arrangements’—the expression is exceedingly faulty—if you make a will.”
“I can alter it, surely!” exclaimed Ursula.
“Only by another will.” The notary sighed and looked at the clock. Quarter-past ten.