Penfield glanced down at his notes, then across at her. “Were you aware that your uncle drew up and signed a prenuptial agreement settling fifty thousand dollars a year upon you and Doctor Curtis?”
A burning blush crimsoned Anne’s face as her gaze rested for a second on Curtis seated across the table from her.
“I was told so,” she answered, lowering her voice, but Curtis caught the words.
“Who told you of the document?” asked Penfield. “Your uncle?”
Anne shook her head. “No.” She spoke with more of an effort. “I met Mr. Gerald Armstrong as he was leaving the house last night and he told me.”
“And did he tell you also that Mr. Meredith had signed a codicil to his will revoking a bequest to you of one million dollars and giving it to your cousin, Miss Lucille Hull?”
Again Anne nodded her head. “He did,” she said simply.
“Miss Meredith,” Penfield spoke impressively, “where are those documents now?”
“I have no idea.” Anne regarded him in grave surprise. Penfield’s chagrin was manifest; his question had not shaken her composure. “I presume my uncle put them away safely.”
“They cannot be found,” replied Penfield. “Until they are located, Miss Meredith, you will receive the original bequest of one million dollars.” He paused, then added gravely, “You will thus be extremely wealthy without having to go through a marriage ceremony.”