It did not appear to him that anything could move him after what he had already suffered.
“Yes, your lordship; I have to present to you the claims of another to this property of Wycliffe, and all other properties connected with it.”
Paul Tressalia regarded the man with almost stupid wonder for a moment. A more ridiculous assertion, it struck him, could not have been made by the most witless fool in the kingdom.
“Sir, I do not understand you,” he managed to say, at last.
The noted Mr. Faxon very deliberately and distinctly repeated his statement.
“Are you aware how very absurd such an assertion sounds, Mr. Faxon?” Paul Tressalia asked, with curling lips. “Why, I am the only living representative of the whole family, and what you assert is simply preposterous.”
“Not so much so as you may suppose,” returned the lawyer, calmly.
Mr. Tressalia began to grow rather red in the face at this; he could not exactly make out whether the lawyer meant to insult him or not; his manner was courteous, but what he said was such an unheard of proposition that he was at a loss to comprehend it.
“If that is the nature of your business with me to-day, you will excuse me if I say I cannot listen to you any further,” he said, rather coldly.
“Bear with me, if you please, my lord, for a few moments,” returned the imperturbable lawyer, with a wave of his shapely hand, “and allow me to ask you a few questions. Did not the former marquis have an only child?”