“Something has happened,” said Virginia, with a swift intake of her breath. “Please sit down, Mr. Wade—here by the table—is the light too strong? I want you to look over these papers. They are those you left yesterday.”
“You mean that I am to read them, Mrs. Landray?” he asked, as he seated himself and deftly arranged the papers in a neat little pile.
“Yes, Mr. Wade,” and Virginia placed herself opposite him.
He realized that her composure had received some sort of a shock, but he understood that if it had been merely some belated word of farewell from the dead man she would not have sent for him. No, clearly it was a business matter, and he thought of Benson again with a hard cynical smile. Was he to be given a glimpse of some past dereliction on the part of the old lawyer! Mr. Wade's smile was both evil and unkind, but the next instant his lips straightened themselves, and his gravity was equal to Virginia's as he asked, “These papers are exactly what they assume to be?”
“How do you mean, I don't understand your question,” said Virginia.
“I mean they are genuine?”
“Yes, they were my husband's.”
“A very singular circumstance,” said Wade, as with great deliberation he began his examination. Virginia watched his face. But it was expressionless, beyond that it betokened complete absorption in his task. The first paper he took up seemed to be an account of moneys due the Landrays. He ran through it carefully.
“This, I suppose, goes back to the time when your husband and his brother owned the old mill,” he said at last. “It is a list of credits they had given. Am I right? I see there is written here at the bottom of the page, 'In Benson's hands for collection.'.rdquo; He glanced at her, and now his expression was one of curiosity, he wondered if she had discovered anything here.
She seemed to understand this unspoken question, for she said, “I want you to examine all the papers, Mr. Wade.”