Glance over the items, please; yes, sit here at the table.

Now, if you will sign that there will be no further cause for you to feel any uneasiness--this line, please." Cavendish grasped the penholder in his fingers, and signed.

It was the act of a man dazed, half stupefied, unable to control his actions.
With trembling hand, and white face, he sat staring at the paper, scarcely comprehending its real meaning.

In a way it was a confession of guilt, an acknowledgment of his fear of exposure, yet he felt utterly incapable of resistance.

Enright unlocked the door, and projected his head outside, comprehending clearly that the proper time to strike was while the iron was hot.
Calling Miss Healey, one of his stenographers, he made her an official witness to the document and the signature of John Cavendish.
Not until ten minutes later when he was on the street did it occur to John Cavendish that the carbon copy of the will, together with the rough notes in his cousin's handwriting, still remained in Enright's possession.