‘I don’t mind your putting it straightforwardly,’ Christopher said. He considered the base of the fountain that was half full of leaves. This civilization had contrived a state of things in which leaves rotted by August. Well, it was doomed!
‘If you were a pimp living on women,’ Mark repeated, ‘it was no good making a will. You might need uncounted thousands to keep you straight. You were to have ‘em. You were to be as debauched as you wanted, but on clean money. I was to see how much in all probability that would be and arrange the other legacies to scale…Father had crowds of pensioners…’
‘How much did father cut up for?’ Christopher asked. Mark said:
‘God knows…You saw we proved the estate at a million and a quarter as far as ascertained. But it might be twice that. Or five times!…Wit
