"To whom?"
"To you, Mr. Manley!" said Mr. Beaks. "You are the only heir-at-law. Your uncle had the right to leave the money elsewhere, but he has not done so."
"Then I'm to get the whole thing," muttered Paul dazedly. "I—I don't understand this. Don't joke with me. I don't believe it. Six thousand per year! No, no. Are you telling me the truth? Molly, you heard him? Prove it to me. Give me five hundred dollars!"
"Currency?"
"Yes, real money."
They watched Beaks bending down before his safe, and twirling the knob, and methodically counting a sheaf of greenbacks.
"Here it is, Mr. Manley. And I wish to say——"
He stared after them. Paul had caught Molly by the hand and was hurrying with her to the door.
He bundled her into an elevator, and then pulled her out into Nassau Street.