Other than being a bit old, Mr. Mongraty had a nearly white head, and he wore very elegant spectacles.
My words had all eyes in the room turn to me, but Mongraty—too old, I believe, to stress his neck—replied while still facing forward,
"The family of the Alber Chase Caster are yet to present themselves. Without them, we cannot read the will."
"Did Mr. Chase say that, or are you just sucking up to the family and tolerating their excesses?"
Beside me, Grace was struggling not to let her expression turn to one of horror. Out of view from everyone else, she was strongly tugging on my pants.
"Sir, please don't say anything more," the girl whispered beside me, lamentation well-carried in her tone.
"Mr. Albert said nothing of the sort, but considering we are guests, I believe waiting for the hosts is the least we can do.
If we can be polite, why not be?"
There were still some words I could speak, but I believed I had said enough and went quiet.
