Early last fall we
came to New York, for in spite of all the past I still loved Walter
Dinsmore, and longed to be near him.
"I felt as if the fates had favored me when I heard that he had died
without making his will, and I knew from the fact that you were known
only as his niece, Miss Mona Montague, that you must still be in
ignorance of your real relationship toward him. So it was comparatively
easy for me to establish my claim to his property. I did not appear
personally in the matter, for I was leading quite a brilliant career here
as Mrs. Richmond Montague, and I did not wish to figure as the discarded
wife of Walter Dinsmore, so no one save Mr. Corbin even suspected my
identity. If Walter Dinsmore had never written that miserable confession,
or if I had at once turned all his property into money and gone abroad,
or to California, I need never have been brought to this. As matters
stand now, however, I suppose you will claim everything," she concluded,
with a sullen frown.
Mona thought that if the law had its course with her she would need but
very little of the ill-gotten wealth upon which she had been flourishing
so extravagantly of late. But she simply replied, in a cold, resolute
tone:
"I certainly feel that I am entitled to the property which my father
wished me to have.
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