"Will you sit down?" he said, suavely, pointing to a chair. "Maunders,
you can go."
Walter Hine turned quickly, as though he would have preferred Maunders to
stay, but he let him go. Mr. Jarvice shut the door carefully, and,
walking across the room, stood over his visitor with his hands in his
pockets, and renewed his scrutiny. Walter Hine grew uncomfortable, and
blurted out with a cockney twang--
"Maunders told me that if I came to see you it might be to my advantage."
"I think it will," replied Mr. Jarvice. "Have you seen this
morning's paper?"
"On'y the 'Sportsman'."
"Then you have probably not noticed that your cousin, John Lattery, has
been killed in the Alps." He handed his newspaper to Hine, who glanced at
it indifferently.
"Well, how does that affect me?" he asked.
"It leaves you the only heir to your uncle, Mr. Joseph Hine, wine-grower
at Macon, who, I believe, is a millionaire. Joseph Hine is domiciled in
France, and must by French law leave a certain portion of his property to
his relations, in other words, to you. I have taken some trouble to go
into the matter, Mr. Hine, and I find that your share must at the very
least amount to two hundred thousand pounds."
"I know all about that," Hine interrupted. "But as the old brute won't
acknowledge me and may live another twenty years, it's not much use
to me now.
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