His eyes met Dr. Tugler’s. The grim question in that look demanded the sheer truth. John Tugler understood it, and met it like a man.
“We can’t move her now,” he said.
Miss Carmagee lifted her mild spectacles to her brother’s face.
“Mrs. Pentherby is dead,” she said with her, he would sanction
everything at oncehe answered..
“Dead!”
“Yes.”
“No extreme loss to the community. Ah—would you—!” and he cast a threatening glance in the direction of the bird-cage at the sound of an insinuating “tweet.” “Well, what about the money?”
The lawyer’s eyes twinkled as though Mrs. Pentherby’s dividends were more interesting than her person.
“She has left nearly all her money and her furniture to Catherine. She died the very same day as Gwen.”
“Pity it wasn’t six months ago. The old lady had some first-class china, and a few fine pictures. Does Catherine say how much?”
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