Edina

questioned Frank.

"That's what I can't tell. Hang it all my memory's not worth a rush now. When folks grow old, Frank, their memory fails them."

"I remember your words to me at the time, Uncle Francis: they were that I came in for a good slice."

"Did I? When?"

"When you came back from London, and were telling my aunt about the will. I was present: it was in this very room. 'You come in for a good slice, Frank,' you said, turning to me."

"Didn't I say how much?"

"No. And I did not like to ask you. Of course you knew how much it was?"

"Of course I did. I read the will."

"I wish you could remember."

"I wish I could, Frank. I ought to. I'll sleep upon it, and perhaps it will come to me in the morning."

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