In the hall he almost ran into Mr. Patton, who was putting on his coat. Mr. Patton had the uncomfortable expression on his face of one who has eaten something that has disagreed with him. The expression on the face of Renny, who was accompanying him to the door, was even more uncomfortable. He said: "You're sure there's no doubt of her sanity?"
Mr. Patton puckered his lips. "None whatever."
"Well, she had a right to do what she liked with her own money, but—it's rather hard on my uncles."
"Yes, yes. . . . Yes, indeed."
"And so entirely unexpected. She never seemed to care especially for him. She was much more partial to Piers."
"You never can tell."
"With women—I suppose not."
"Nor men, either. It's extraordinary what some of them will do." Mr. Patton took his hat from the rack, looked into it; then, casting a furtive look into the silent sitting-room, he added, in a muffled tone: "I actually tried to dissuade her. I don't mind saying this to you. But—she was" He shrugged.
"Not very tolerant of interference. I know."
Mr. Patton said, picking up his brief-bag, and looking into Renny's eyes with some embarrassment: "It's hard on you, too. Particularly as in most of the former wills"
Renny scowled. "I'm not worrying about that. How many wills did you say there have been?"
"Eight during the twenty years I have looked after her affairs. Some changes, of course, were only minor. In most of them you"
