A portly, sandy-haired old
buck, with three jolly chins."
"He was white toward the end, and very, very thin," said Mr. Hawkes
softly.
"Was he?" from Alaric. "Fancy that. It just shows, mater, doesn't
it?" He bent eagerly over the table as Hawkes traced some figures
with a pencil on one of the pages of the will.
"How much did he leave?" And Alaric's voice rose to a pitch of well-
defined interest.
"His estate is valued, approximately, at some two hundred thousand
pounds," replied the lawyer.
Alaric gave a long, low whistle, and smiled a broad, comprehensive
smile.
Ethel for the first time showed a gleam of genuine interest.
Mrs. Chichester began to cry again. "Perhaps it was my fault I
didn't see him oftener," she said.
Alaric, unable to curb his curiosity, burst out with: "How did the
old boy split it up?"
"To his immediate relations he left" Mr. Hawkes looked up from the
will and found three pairs of eyes fixed on him. He stopped. It may
be that constant association with the law courts destroys faith in
human nature--but whatever the cause, it seemed to Mr. Hawkes in
each of those eyes was reflected the one dominant feeling--GREED.
The expression in the family's combined eyes was astonishing in its
directness, its barefacedness.
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