Part 51 (1/2)
Just here the inner door opened by the clerk, who announced, ”Mr.
Tremlett, sir.”
Chapter x.x.xV
John Tremlett
John Tremlett was a dark-complexioned young man, rather above the middle height. He was by no means handsome; but plain faces are often attractive, and this young man's was not. His eyes were bloodshot, and even Ben's inexperienced glance could detect the marks of dissipation. He was expensively dressed and looked like one who made a business of spending money.
”How are you, Brief?” he said carelessly, throwing himself into a chair.
”In better condition than you are, I judge from your looks, Mr.
Tremlett,” responded the lawyer.
”I hope so. I feel awfully seedy,” said Tremlett.
”Your own fault. You shouldn't keep such late hours.”
”Oh, bother that, Brief! I must have a good time.”
”You don't look as if you were enjoying your mode of life.”
”Oh, I shall be all right when I get over my headache. Is this a client of yours?” glancing at Ben.
”He's a relation of yours, according to his own account,” said Mr. Brief.
”Is he?” inquired Tremlett languidly. ”Can't say I ever saw him before.”
”Mr. Baldwin was my great-uncle,” said Ben. ”That is, he was an uncle of my aunt, Mrs. Jane Bradford.”
”Indeed! Were you expecting a share of the property?” asked Tremlett suspiciously.
”I thought Mr. Baldwin might remember his niece.”
”He hasn't, though.”
”So I find by the will.”
”Sorry for you; but, of course, Mr. Baldwin had a right to dispose of his property as he saw fit.”
”I don't deny his right.”
”Then you are not intending to dispute the will,” said Tremlett, relieved.
”I never dreamed of doing it. I came about a house which my aunt has been occupying rent-free.”
”What is it, Brief? Do I know about it?”