"It's not the one you drafted."
"Oh yes, it is."
"It isn't the one you showed me just now."
"Isn't it? Are you quite, quite sure?"
"Of course I'm sure! It's a trick!--a fraud! This is not my will!"
"But, dear Mr. Grahame--I noticed how you called me your dear!--it is your will. Here's your signature, attested by two witnesses. After all, there's only a slight difference between the one you saw and this."
"A slight difference, you--you----!"
In his efforts to find an expletive to fit the occasion, his struggles for breath became greater. She went gaily on.
"The only difference is that I get everything instead of Margaret Wallace, and that instead of my five thousand pounds she gets five farthings. Surely the trifling substitution of a few words won't matter to you in the least, Mr. Grahame."
It seemed that it mattered a good deal. After a tremendous effort he regained some portion of his voice, enough to enable him to burst into a string of expletives.