'Then--what does it mean?'
'My uncle's dead.'
'Mr Burton?'
He nodded.
'Has he left you his money? Oh, Guy!'
'As to that, I can't say. At present I know nothing. The fact is, Letty, it's--it's a queer business. You won't laugh?'
'What at?'
'Well'--he held out an envelope--'if I hadn't found this letter awaiting me telling me of the old man's death, I should have accused myself of softening of the brain, or something of the kind. As it is, I believe I've had a vision.'
'A vision! You? Guy, fancy your discovering that there are visions about.'
'You're laughing at me now.'