who, with legs stretched out before him, sat with his hands deep in his trousers pockets.
“That’s the idea,” admitted Mr. Clodd.
Mr. Gladman laughed, but without much lightening the atmosphere. “Upon my word, Clodd, you amuse me – you quite amuse me,” repeated Mr. Gladman.
“You always had a sense of humour,” commented Mr. Clodd.
“You villain! You double-dyed villain!” screamed Mr. Gladman, suddenly changing his tone. “You think the law is going to allow you to swindle honest men! You think we are going to sit still for you to rob us! That will – ” Mr. Gladman pointed a lank forefinger dramatically towards the table.
“You mean to dispute it?” inquired Mr. Clodd.
For a moment Mr. Gladman stood aghast at the other’s coolness, but soon found his voice again.
“Dispute it!” he shrieked. “Do you dispute that you influenced him? – dictated it to him word for word, made the poor old helpless idiot sign it, he utterly incapable of even understanding – ”
“Don’t chatter so much,” interrupted Mr. Clodd. “It’s not a pretty voice, yours. What I asked you was, do you intend to dispute it?”
“If you will kindly excuse us,” struck in Mrs. Gladman, addressing Mr. Clodd with an air of much politeness, “we shall just have time, if we go now, to catch our solicitor before he leaves his office.”
Mr. Gladman took up his hat from underneath his chair.
“One moment,” suggested Mr. Clodd. “I did influence him to make that will. If you don’t like it, there’s an end of it.”
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