James’ curiosity was roused at once. Perhaps nothing in this life was more stimulating to him than a will; it was the supreme deal with property, the final inventory of a man’s belongings, the last word on what he was worth. He sounded the bell.

“Bring in Mr. Jolyon’s will,” he said to an anxious, dark-haired clerk.

“You going to make some alterations?” And through his mind there flashed the thought: “Now, am I worth as much as he?”

Old Jolyon put the will in his breast pocket, and James twisted his long legs regretfully.

“You’ve made some nice purchases lately, they tell me,” he said.