Quite suddenly Mr. Saunderson was aware of the strength of the antagonism that confronted him. Unable 348 to trace the reason of it, he blundered on hopelessly.
“Mr. Masters was, I should say, quite aware of your natural ability. He has had more regard for your fortunes than you probably suspect. I have letters of his to various men concerning the starting of this ingenious invention of yours, Patrimondi.” He bustled over some papers on the table as if searching, and did not see Christopher’s sudden backward movement: but Mr. Aston bent forward and put his hand as if accidentally on Christopher’s shoulder as he spoke:
“Never mind them, now, Mr. Saunderson. Mr. Masters was, we know, naturally interested in that affair, but to continue your account, what will happen if Mr. Aston refuses to accept his position? Let us suppose for a moment there had been no clue left. What would you have done?”
Mr. Saunderson brought the tips of his red, podgy fingers together with great exactness.
“That is a supposition I should be sorry to entertain, sir,” he said deliberately.
“I am afraid you must entertain it,” put in Christopher, suddenly, his resolution to escape urging him to curt methods.
The light eyes of the lawyer rested on him with something very like apprehension in them.
“In the case of there being no direct heir the money would go to the nearest of kin.”
“We will pass that over,” Mr. Aston said quietly. “I am the nearest relative Peter had, after Christopher, and I decline it at all costs.”
“Unclaimed and unowned money would fall to the Crown, I suppose. It is impossible to imagine it.”