“Yet, how happy would some people be at such a windfall!”
“The difficulty of doing something with it will be very terrible. Let us never talk about it. Besides, that cousin of yours is going to set the will aside, if he can.”
She relapsed into silence. It was not of her newly-acquired fortune that she was thinking.
They drove from the station to the “Mansions.” They mounted the stairs to the first-floor.
“Let me come in with you, Leonard,” she said. “I want to say something. It had better be said to-day and at once, else it will become impossible.”
He observed that she was embarrassed in her manner, that she spoke with some constraint, and that she was blushing. A presentiment seized him. Presentiment is as certain as coincidence. He, too, changed colour. But he waited. They remained standing face to face.
“Tell me first,” she said, “is the Possession of your mind wholly gone? Are you quite free from the dreadful thing?”
“Happily, yes. I am quite free. My mind is completely clear again. There is plenty to think about—one is not likely to forget the last few weeks—but I can think as I please. My will is my own once more.”
“I also am quite free. The first thing that I want to say is this: What are we to do with our knowledge?”
“You are the person to decide. If you wish, it shall be proclaimed abroad.”