"My idea was," continued General Michael, "that two, or at the most
three, people besides you and I be let into the secret."
"Three," said Agar, with quiet decision.
"Three?"
"Yes."
The General tacitly allowed this point and passed on with characteristic
promptitude to another.
"Are you a man of property?"
"Yes, I inherit my father's place down in Hertfordshire."
"I'll tell you why I ask. There are those beastly lawyers to think of. At
your death it is to be presumed that the estate comes to your brother.
The legal operations must be delayed somehow. I will see to it," he added
in a concise, almost snappish way.
Agar smiled, although he was conscious of a vague feeling of discomfort.
He was not a highly sensitive or a nervous man, and this feeling was more
than might have been expected to arise from an attendance, as it were, at
one's own obituary arrangements. The General seemed to be remarkably well
informed on these smaller points, and something prompted Jem Agar to ask
him if the idea he had just propounded was a suddenly conceived one.
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