"What's the time, Jim?" she asked nervously.

"Oh, there's no hurry," he said, looking at his watch without seeing
it. Then turning to Wynne, he added: "We've got an important engagement
this evening in London and we're very anxious not to miss the fast
train."

"The train service down here is rotten," said Mrs. Wickham harshly.

"That's all right. The will is very short. It won't take me two minutes
to read it," Mr. Wynne reassured them.

"What on earth is Miss Marsh doing?" said Mrs. Wickham, half to herself.
An endless minute passed.

"How pretty the garden is looking now," said the solicitor cheerfully,
gazing out through the window.

"Very," Wickham managed to say.

"Miss Wickham was always so interested in her garden."

"Yes."

"My own tulips aren't so advanced as those."

"Aren't they?" Wickham's tone suggested irritation.

Mr. Wynne addressed his next observation to Mrs. Wickham.