“ Would you be sorry? If you are sorry enough, I’ll mention you in my will.”
His dark eyes laughed at her recklessly and he squeezed her hand.
His will! She hastily cast down her eyes for fear of betrayal but not swiftly enough, for his eyes gleamed, suddenly curious.
“ According to the Yankees, I ought to have a fine will. There seems to be considerable interest in my finances at present. Every day, I am hauled up before another board of inquiry and asked foolish questions. The rumor seems current that I made off with the mythical gold of the Confederacy.”
“ Well — did you?”
“ What a leading question! You know as well as I do that the Confederacy ran a printing press instead of a mint.”
“ Where did you get all your money? Speculating? Aunt Pittypat said —”
“ What probing ques
