“They’re saying downtown that Farley was a crank about will-making; he made a lot of wills and kept them hid. Thurston’s let that out himself. If you know this, we can drop that part of it.”
She made no reply, and her silence encouraged him to go on.
“The fact is, as we all know,” he began ingratiatingly, “that Farley wasn’t himself at all times. He probably made wills that he destroyed—or meant to destroy. It’s wholly possible that he vented his wrath on you at times by cutting down what he meant to give you, and the next day he’d be sorry for it. That would be like him. In old times at the store he used to blow up with fury one minute and be as tame as a lamb the next. But there’s no reason—there’s not the slightest reason why you should suffer if he died leaving a will lying around that might rob you of your just inheritance—that didn’t really express his normal attitude toward you. He never meant to be mean to you; I’m satisfied of that; but if there are some of those wills here in the house—you would have a right, considering his condition and all that—you would have a right—you see—”
He had been watching her narrowly for some sign of interest or encouragement, but finding neither he broke off without saying just what it might be right for her to do. However, while he waited a quick flutter of her lids indicated that she comprehended. Their eyes met in a long gaze. Her face grew white and her lips opened several times before any sound came from them. He had drawn closer, but he stepped back as he saw horror and repugnance clearly written in her face.
“You have no right to talk to me like this! It’s too shameful, too terrible!” she gasped.
“Please, Nan, don’t take it that way,” he begged.
“How else can I take it! To think that you should believe me capable of that, Billy!”
“If I hadn’t known that he had treated you like a brute and that he always carried his vindictiveness to the limit, I shouldn’t be here. I don’t want to see you cut off with little or nothing when the whole estate ought to be yours—will be yours if you don’t make a fool of yourself! He had no right to bring you up as his daughter and then leave you with nothing. Thurston isn’t going to protect your interests; he merely did from time to time what Farley told him to do, and you won’t get any help out of him. If there are different wills hidden about—you may know where he hid them—”
He threw out his arms with a gesture meant to demonstrate the ease with which matters might be taken into her own hands. In the sobering hours that had followed Farley’s death only his great kindness and generosity had been in her thoughts. The enormity of what Copeland proposed grew upon her. She bestirred herself suddenly. She must not let him think that she was tolerating his suggestion for an instant.
“I’m sorry you thought that kind of thing would appeal to me! That’s your idea of me, is it?”