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    â€œBob’s very discreet, Florrie,” said Gamadge, smiling.
    â€œYou can carry that kind of thing too far. I told him to destroy my other will, and I just drew up the new one myself. I know exactly how, and I got the telephone man and his assistant to witness it for me. They’re very nice boys, local boys; I’ve known them since they used to bring berries around.”
    â€œYou know how to make wills, Florrie?”
    â€œYes, I do. I’ve had plenty of practice.”
    â€œI suppose you made one after you were married.”
    â€œYes, I did. I left everything to Tim, and Bob Macloud fussed me and fussed me until I made another, a much more sensible one, about three years ago.”
    â€œPoor Bob.”
    â€œI’m quite willing to admit that it was more sensible. You know I haven’t much to leave, Henry; only about five hundred thousand dollars. You know how our money’s tied up?”
    â€œYou and Syl have the income.”
    â€œUntil one of us dies, and of course I shall die first. So I’ll never have more to leave than this five hundred thousand, which—as I keep reminding Bob—is absolutely my own to do as I like with. I earned it myself!”
    â€œPlaying the market?” Gamadge smiled at her.
    â€œYes, and it was hard work, I can tell you! I read the financial pages every day, and I spent hours at my broker’s, sitting in front of one of those blackboards, with a lot of men.”
    â€œI bet you had a glorious time.”
    â€œIt was glorious to make the money, and have something to put in a will. I never can save much out of my income now, and I don’t suppose that I’ll ever be able to earn much that way again. Do you?”
    Gamadge said he feared not.
    â€œWell, as I say, I felt that this five hundred thousand was my own; so about three years ago, when I made my new will, I did just as I chose in it. I left nice legacies to the servants, and annuities to Thomas and Louise, and a hundred thousand to my church in New York—dear Dr. Stokes-Burgess, I hope he’ll be alive then to distribute it. He’s quite a young man. It’s the Church of SS. Gervase and Protase. And I left a hundred thousand to the Bethea Home for Destitute Children; Mother founded it, and I’ve always been interested in it. I wish I had enough to rebuild it entirely—it’s dreadfully out of date, no laboratory. That left about two hundred and sixty thousand. I left twenty-five thousand apiece to Sally Deedes, Susie Burt, and Evelyn Wing. Tim was my residuary legatee; that meant a hundred and eighty-five thousand, more or less, my personal goods and chattels, and Underhill.”
    â€œUnderhill is yours, is it?”
    â€œOh, yes; didn’t you know? It costs me a fortune, too, and Syl won’t do anything, though he treats it as if it belonged to him too.”
    â€œYou brought him up to treat it that way.”
    â€œWell, he ought to help me with the taxes and upkeep. My personal chattels don’t amount to much—I never bought myself jewellery.”
    â€œDidn’t your father buy you jewellery?”
    â€œJust a few things. He hated buying jewellery. He thought it was a poor investment, and I suppose I caught the idea from him. Well, Bob Macloud didn’t make any fuss about the will I made three years ago.”
    â€œIt’s not a bad will. But if Miss Wing knows what’s in it, I’m not surprised that she keeps her temper when you lose yours.”
    â€œShe doesn’t know anything about her legacy. Nobody knows about my wills. The only will they know anything about is that first one I made after I married; I told everybody I was leaving everything to Tim. Five hundred thousand didn’t seem much for him—then.”
    â€œNo; I understand that.”
    â€œBut Bob Macloud fussed me about Susie Burt and Sally. I think it was very good of me to leave them as much as I left