“The truth,” he said gently, “is that your husband left something very important for you.

Lawrence handed me this three months ago and instructed me to give it to you — to you alone, privately, immediately after the public reading.

He was absolutely adamant about those instructions.

No one else was to know it existed.

I looked at Mr.

Bradley then and saw that he had been carrying this for three months — had sat through the entire reading of the will knowing that the truth of it rested in an envelope in his desk drawer, had watched my daughter accuse me and said nothing, because his client had instructed him to say nothing until the room was empty.

It cannot have been comfortable for him.