"And that Lexington Avenue stuff?"
"Deeded and recorded."
"The bonds?"
"Everything is father's again."
"Was it yesterday?"
"Yes. Why?"
"You are absolutely certain?"
"Mr. Cuyp said so."
Malcourt slowly rolled a cigarette and held it, unlighted, in his nervous fingers. Young Mrs. Malcourt watched him, but her mind was on other things.
Presently he rose, and she looked up as though startled painfully from her abstraction.