"You must know, Harry, that Mr. Silwood's death has made a great difference to me."
"It has nothing to do with me. What has become of my property?"
"It is possible," said Eversleigh, weakly, "that there may have been things in his department that are slightly irregular. No doubt," he went on more firmly, "he thought he was acting in your best interests when he sold your property."
"Sold my property," repeated Bennet, with a fierce snarl. "If he sold it, what did he sell it for? And where is the money?"
Eversleigh was mute.
"Again you have nothing to say! Now I ask you just one question. Did you know, or did you not know, when you wrote me yesterday that you would procure the advance of ten thousand pounds on the property, that it had been sold already? Answer me!"
Bennet's eyes blazed with rage and menace as he thundered the last words at Eversleigh.
Eversleigh partly rose from his chair, clutching as he did so at his collar; then he sat down with a loud groan, covered his face with his hands, and broke into sobs.
Bennet stood over him and shook him violently.
"You did know," he shouted. "You knew all the while that my flats had been sold. Do you know what you are? You are a thief and a swindler—that's what you are!"