At last he unfolded the will, swung round in his chair to get a better light on it, tilted back at a seemingly perilous angle, cleared his throat, and said :
“This storm makes it rather hard to see. I wonder how many more days it will last ? “
“ I guess it’s about worked itself out,” said John. “ It can’t last forever.”
Judge Hayes began reading in that rapid drone which lawyers affect, but he knew the will almost by heart, and he found time to cast many swift glances at John Bagsbury.
John sat low in his chair, his chin on his breast, his legs crossed, his thumbs hooked into his trousers pockets. His eyes were half closed, the lower lids being drawn to meet the drooping upper ones ; his gaze seemed fixed on one of the casters of the lawyer’s chair; his brows bore the slight frown of a
