"Much too valuable to carry about, Mrs. Mallathorpe," he said. "I've got it--all safe--under lock and key. But as I've said--nobody knows of it but myself. Not a living soul. No one has any idea! No one can have any idea. I was a bit alarmed when I heard that young Collingwood had been to you, for I thought that the old man, though he didn't tell me of any such thing, might have dropped you a line saying what he'd found. But as he didn't--well, not one living soul knows that the will's in existence, except me--and you!" Mrs. Mallathorpe was regaining her self-possession. She had had a great shock, but the worst of it was over. Already she knew, from Pratt's manner, insidious and suggesting, that the will was of a nature that would dispossess her and hers of this recently acquired wealth--the clerk had made that evident by look and tone. So--there was nothing but to face things. "What--what does it--say?" she asked, with an effort. Pratt unbuttoned his overcoat, plunged a hand into the inner pocket, drew out a sheet of paper, unfolded it and laid it on the desk. "An exact copy," he said tersely. "Read it for yourself." In spite of the determined effort which she made to be calm, Mrs. Mallathorpe's fingers still trembled as she took up the sheet on which Pratt had made a fair copy of the will. The clerk watched her narrowly as she read. He knew that presently there would be a tussle between them: he knew, too, that she was a woman who would fight hard in defence of her own interest, and for the interests of her children. Always keeping his ears open to local gossip, especially where money was concerned, Pratt had long since heard that Mrs. Mallathorpe was a keen and sharp business woman. And now he was not surprised when, having slowly and carefully read the copy of the will from beginning to end, she laid it down, and turned to him with a business-like question. "The effect of that?" she asked. "What would it be--curtly?" "Precisely what it says," answered Pratt. "Couldn't be clearer!" "We--should lose all?" she demanded, almost angrily. "All?" "All--except what he says--there," agreed Pratt. "And that," she went on, drumming her fingers on the paper, "that--would stand?"