As for Paul, since his first angry explanation he had not said a word. The young man looked like a man in a dream. He was standing leaning against the mantelpiece, every tinge of colour gone out of his face, listening, but hardly seeming to understand what was said. He had watched his mother’s movements, his uncle’s passionate appeal to her, but he had not stirred. As a matter of fact the confusion in his mind was such that nothing was clear to him. He felt as if he had fallen and was still falling, from some great height into infinite space. His feet tingled, his head was light. The sounds around him seemed blurred and uncertain, as well as the faces. While he stood thus bewildered, two arms suddenly surrounded his, embracing it, clinging to him. Paul pressed these clinging hands mechanically to his side, and felt a certain melting, a softness of consolation and support. But whether it was Dolly whispering comfort to him in sight of his father’s grave, or Alice bidding him take courage in the midst of a new confusing imbroglio of pain and excitement, he could scarcely have told. Then, however, voices more distinct came to him, voices quite steady and calm, in their ordinary tones. “After this interruption it will be better to go no further,” the lawyer said. “I can only say that I will consult with my clients, and meet Mr. ----, this gentleman’s solicitor, on the subject of the extraordinary claim he makes.” “If it is me you mean, I have no solicitor,” said Mr. Gus, “and I don’t see the need of one. What have you got to say against my papers? They are straightforward enough.” The lawyer was moved to impatience. “It is ridiculous,” he said, “to think that a matter of this importance--the succession to a great property--can be settled in such a summary way. There is a great deal more necessary before we get that length. Lady Markham, I don’t think we need detain you longer.”