Saying this, Hugh lifted his eyes quickly enough to encounter Mr. Bonnithorne's glance, and when they fell again a curious expression was playing about his mouth.
"Give me the papers," said Hugh, and he stretched forward his hand without shifting in his seat.
"Well, really, you are—really—"
Hugh raised his eyes again. Mr. Bonnithorne paused, handed the documents, and shuffled uneasily into a seat.
One by one Hugh glanced hastily over three slips of paper. "This is well," he said, quietly.
"Well? I should say so, indeed. What could be better? I confess to you that until to-day I had some doubts. Now I have none."
"Doubts? So you had doubts?" said Hugh, dryly "They disturbed your sleep, perhaps?"
The lurking distrust in Mr. Bonnithorne's eyes openly displayed itself, and he gazed full into the face of Hugh Ritson with a searching look that made little parley with his smile. "Then one may take a man's inheritance without qualm or conviction?"
Hugh pretended not to hear, and began to read aloud the certificates in his hand. "Let me see, this is first—Registration of Birth."
Mr. Bonnithorne interrupted. "Luckily, very luckily, the registration of birth is first."