More than once before in life my luck had turned in this sudden way, why should it not happen again?
But she was insane and could not appoint an heir! Why had not those fools of lawyers told me the facts instead of leaving me to the torment of this suspense?
I glanced at the clock, then taking a telegraph form I wrote: "Shall be at Dunchester Station 8:30.

Meet me there or later at the club." Taking a cab I drove to St.Pancras, just in time to catch the train.

In my pocket--so closely was I pressed for money, for my account at the bank was actually overdrawn--I had barely enough to pay for a third-class ticket to Dunchester.

This mattered little, however, for I always travelled third-class, not because I liked it but because it looked democratic and the right sort of thing for a Radical M.P.to do.
The train was a fast one, but that journey seemed absolutely endless.
Now at length we had slowed down at the Dunchester signal-box, and now we were running into the town.

If my friend the lawyer had anything really striking to tell me he would send to meet me at the station, and, if it was something remarkable, he would probably attend there himself.
Therefore, if I saw neither the managing clerk nor the junior partner, nor the Head of the Firm, I might be certain that the news was trivial, probably--dreadful thought which had not occurred to me before--that I was appointed executor under the will with a legacy of a hundred guineas.
The train rolled into the station.