“Aha! in the case of her death.”
There was another pause. The Count moved from the verandah to the gravel walk outside. I knew that he had moved by his voice. “The rain has come at last,” I heard him say. It had come. The state of my cloak showed that it had been falling thickly for some little time.
The Count went back under the verandah—I heard the chair creak beneath his weight as he sat down in it again.
“Well, Percival,” he said, “and in the case of Lady Glyde’s death, what do you get then?”
“If she leaves no children——”
“Which she is likely to do?”
“Which she is not in the least likely to do——”
“Yes?”
“Why, then I get her twenty thousand pounds.”
“Paid down?”