"Mentally, I suppose he has."
"Unfortunately, his weakness isn't mental—or exclusively so."
"Oh, he will live to make a dozen more," I said. "Do you know the purport of this one?"
Theodore's color, by this time, had died away into plain white. He shook his head. The doggedness of the movement provoked me, and I wished to arouse his curiosity. "I have his commission to destroy it."
Theodore smiled very grandly. "It's not a task I envy you," he said.
"I should think not—especially if you knew the import of the will." He stood with folded arms, regarding me with his cold, detached eyes. I couldn't stand it. "Come, it's your property! You are sole legatee. I give it up to you." And I thrust the paper into his hand.
He received it mechanically; but after a pause, bethinking himself, he unfolded it and cast his eyes over the contents. Then he slowly smoothed it together and held it a moment with a tremulous hand. "You say that Mr. Sloane directed you to destroy it?" he finally inquired.
"I say so."
"And that you know the contents?"
"Exactly."