The lawyer began with a leisurely introduction.
“I imagine, Howe, you are a trifle surprised to have a call from me,” he said.
“Yes, I am a bit.”
“I drove over on business,” announced Mr. Benton.
Nevertheless, although he prefaced his revelation with this remark, he did not immediately enlighten his listener as to what the business was. In truth, now that the great moment for breaking silence had arrived, Mr. Benton found himself obsessed with a desire to prolong its flavor of mystery. It was like rolling the honied tang of a cordial beneath his tongue. A few words and the secret would lay bare in the light of common day, its glamor rent to atoms.
Martin waited patiently.
“On business,” repeated Mr. Benton at last, as if there had been no break in the conversation.
“I’m ready to hear it,” Martin said, smiling.
“I came, in fact, to acquaint you with the contents of a will.”
Yet again the lawyer’s tongue, sphinxlike 274 from habit, refused to utter the tidings it guarded.