"His will was hidden in one corner of the room. All along I've felt sure that there were more hiding-places in it than one. I shouldn't be surprised if there were half a dozen. It's just the kind of room, and he's just the kind of man. As for the mantelpiece, I've been bothered all along by a feeling that there was something about it which I ought to understand, and didn't. Now I know what it is. Cuthbert Grahame's money's there as certainly as you are here. I tell you he was just the sort of curiosity--he wasn't a man when I knew him!--who might be expected to play a trick like that."
"But why should the girl come and tell you the tale when it was to her advantage to keep it dark--especially from you?"
"That's more than I can say. I know she's a white-faced little devil, and that I hate her. I lay she didn't do it out of any love for me."
"That, I think, we may take for granted--which makes the puzzle more. It looks to me as if she expects you to walk headlong into a trap which she has carefully baited."
"Curse her traps! What do I care for her traps? She can't set one which will catch me. The money's there, and the money's mine--and I'll get it."
"Then get it. It will be useful to you just now, even if there's less than a quarter of a million."
"Useful!--my God!--useful!" Stretching out her arms on either side, she drew a long breath. "But, Luker--that's the mischief!--it's in his room; the one in which he died."
"Well; you've told me that already--what of it?"
"What of it? Why!"--she laughed; there was something in the sound of her laughter which caused him to bunch himself together, as if touched by a sudden chill--"I daren't go in it."
"You daren't go in it? What do you mean? The house is your own, isn't it? What's there to be afraid of? Who's to keep you out?"