"I've been left heaps of money," she exclaimed, "from my uncle,
you know, the one that treated father so badly and tricked him out
of the old manor farm. I hardly knew he existed till he died. And
it's not only a lot, Frank, but it's millions!"
He repeated the word with a kind of groan.
"They are probating the will for six," she went on, not noticing
his agitation, "but I'm sure the lawyers are making it as low as
they can for the taxes. And it's the most splendid kind of
property--rows of houses in the heart of New York and big Broadway
shops and skyscrapers! Frank, do you realise I own two office
buildings twenty stories high?"
Frank tried to congratulate her on her wonderful good fortune, but
it was like a voice from the grave and he could not affect to be
glad at the death-knell of all his hopes.
"That lets me out," he said.
"My poor Frank, you never were in," she said, regarding him with
great kindness and compassion. "I know you are disappointed, but
you are too much a man to be unjust to me."
"Oh, I haven't the right to say a word!" he exclaimed quickly. "On
your side it was friends and nothing more. I always understood
that, Florence."
He was shocked at her almost imperceptible sigh of relief.
"Of course, this changes everything," she said.
"Yet it would have come if it hadn't been for this," he said. "You
were getting to like me better and better. You cried when I last
went away. Yes, it would have come, Florence," he repeated,
looking at her wistfully.
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