'He went through it with the meat-axe,' said John. 'It's all in
spillikins in the back garden.'
'Well, there's one thing,' snapped Morris; 'there's my uncle again, my
fraudulent trustee. He's mine, anyway. And the tontine too. I claim the
tontine; I claim it now. I believe Uncle Masterman's dead.'
'I must put a stop to this nonsense,' said Michael, 'and that for ever.
You say too near the truth. In one sense your uncle is dead, and has
been so long; but not in the sense of the tontine, which it is even on
the cards he may yet live to win. Uncle Joseph saw him this morning; he
will tell you he still lives, but his mind is in abeyance.'
'He did not know me,' said Joseph; to do him justice, not without
emotion.
'So you're out again there, Morris,' said John. 'My eye! what a fool
you've made of yourself!'
'And that was why you wouldn't compromise,' said Morris.
'As for the absurd position in which you and Uncle Joseph have been
making yourselves an exhibition,' resumed Michael, 'it is more than time
it came to an end. I have prepared a proper discharge in full, which you
shall sign as a preliminary.
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