On the track of cunning Mutimer’s mind was keen enough; only amid the complexities of such motives as sway a pure heart in trouble was he quite at a loss. This confession of untruthfulness might on the face of it have spoken in Adela’s favour; but his very understanding of that made him seek for subtle treachery. She saw he suspected her; was it not good policy to seem perfectly frank, even if such frankness for the moment gave a strengthening to suspicion? What devilish ingenuity might after all be concealed in this woman, whom he had taken for simplicity itself! The first bell for luncheon disturbed his reflections. ‘Please sit down,’ he said, pointing to the chair. ‘We can’t end our talk just yet.’ She obeyed him, glad again to rest her trembling limbs. ‘If you suspect it to be a forgery,’ she said, when she had waited in vain for him to speak further, ‘the best way of deciding is to go at once to Mr. Yottle. He will remember; it was he drew up the will.’ He flashed a glance at her. ‘I’m perfectly aware of that. If this is forged, the lawyer has of course given his help. He would be glad to see me.’ Again the suspicion was genuine. Mutimer felt himself hedged in; every avenue of escape to which his thoughts turned was closed in advance. There was no one he would not now have suspected. The full meaning of his position was growing upon him; it made a ferment in his mind. ‘Mr. Yottle!’ Adela exclaimed in astonishment. ‘You think it possible that he--Oh, that is folly!’ Yes, it was folly; her voice assured him of it, proclaiming at the same time the folly of his whole doubt. It was falling to pieces, and, as it fell, disclosing the image of his fate, inexorable, inconceivable. He stood for more than five minutes in silence. Then he drew a little nearer to her, and asked in an unsteady voice: ‘Are you glad of this?’ ‘Glad of it?’ she repeated under her breath. ‘Yes; shall you be glad to see me lose everything?’ ‘You cannot wish to keep what belongs to others. In that sense I think we ought to be glad that the will is found.’ She spoke so coldly that he drew away from her again. The second bell rang. ‘They had better have lunch without us,’ he said. He rang and bade the servant ask Mr. and Mrs. Rodman to lunch alone. Then he returned to an earlier point of the discussion. ‘You say it was thick with dust?’ ‘It was. I believe the lower cupboard has never been open since Mr. Mutimer’s death.’ ‘Why should he take a will to church with him?’ Adela shook her head. ‘If he did,’ Mutimer pursued, ‘I suppose it was to think over the new one he was going to make. You know, of course, that he never intended _this_ to be his will?’ ‘We do not know what his last thoughts may have been,’ Adela replied, in a low voice but firmly. ‘Yes, I think we do. I mean to say, we are quite sure he meant to alter _this_. Yottle was expecting the new will.’ ‘Death took him before he could make it. He left this.’