"Never mind what it says. I'm Cuthbert Grahame, and I tell you to open the envelope, although I don't happen to be dead. Take out the paper which you'll find inside. Read it; you can read it aloud if you like." She read it aloud. The handwriting was identical with the cramped caligraphy on the envelope. "'I give and bequeath all the property of which I die possessed, both in real and personal estate, to Margaret Wallace, absolutely, for her sole use and benefit.--CUTHBERT GRAHAME. Witnesses, NANNIE FORESHAW, DAVID TWELVES, M.D., Edin.'" With the exception of a date at the top that was all the paper contained. "That is the will you broke by marrying me, or, if you prefer it, which I broke by marrying you. There isn't much to be said for the phraseology--it wasn't drafted in a lawyer's office. Nannie wrote it down to my dictation--at that table over by the window there. She doesn't write a very excellent fist, but it'll serve. That's as sound a will as if it had been drawn by a council of lawyers, and, to the lay mind, a good deal plainer than they'd have made it." "Do you mean to say that what's on this paper is enough to put Margaret Wallace into undisputed possession of a quarter of a million of money?" "It would have been if I hadn't married you; my marriage has made it so much waste-paper. You may tear it up, or keep it if you please; it makes no difference. I intend to make another will." "What are you going to put in it?" "Exactly what's in that, only the date will be different. It's the date in that which renders it nugatory." "Aren't you going to leave me anything?" "Why should I?" "Dr. Twelves told me that if I married you I should have twenty thousand pounds." "I'm not responsible for what Dr. Twelves may assert." "You are--in a way, and you know it. Because he only brought me up so that you might die in peace, and, I expect, at your own express command." Mr. Grahame was silent, possibly considering her words. "A cheque for a hundred pounds would amply repay you for what you've done--or I might make it a hundred guineas." "A hundred guineas! Listen to me--you're my husband." "You've observed that on some previous occasion." "And I'm your wife." "That also has already become ancient history." "I want you to understand just the way in which I see it. I'm the mistress of this house, and no one sets foot in it--or in your room--without my express sanction and approval." "Won't any one? We shall see."