I'm going to know all about you, past, present,
and future. I--"
"Alaire! My darling!" he cried, and his face stiffened as if with
pain.
Still in a joyous mood, she teased him. "You had better tremble,
I've found you out, deceiver. I know who you really are."
"Who am I?"
"Don't you know?"
Dave shook his head.
"Really? Have you never read your mother's will?"
Law rose to his elbow, then swung his legs to the floor. "What are
you talking about?" he asked.
For answer Alaire handed him the frayed envelope and its contents.
He examined it, and then said, heavily: "I see! I was expecting
this. It seems I've been carrying it around all this time--"
"Why don't you read it?" she insisted. "There's light enough there
by the window. I supposed you knew all about it or I wouldn't have
joked with you."
He opened his lips to speak, but, seeing something in her eyes, he
stepped to the window and read swiftly. A moment, and then he
uttered a cry.
"Alaire!" he exclaimed, hoarsely. "Read this--My eyes--O God!"
Wonderingly she took the sheets from his shaking hands and read
aloud the paragraph he indicated: Fifth: I bequeath to my adopted
son, David, offspring of the unfortunate American woman who died
in my house at Escovedo--
Again Dave cried out and knelt at Alaire's feet, his arms about
her knees, his face buried in her dress.
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