'I should have thought it would be much easier for you to stand that than it would if it were my funeral, for instance.'

'That's where you're entirely wrong,' said Tuppence. 'I don't particularly want to think of your funeral because I'd much prefer to die before you do. But I mean, if I were going to your funeral, at any rate it would be an orgy of grief. I should take a lot of handkerchiefs.'

'With black borders?'

'Well, I hadn't thought of black borders but it's a nice idea. And besides a burial service is rather lovely. Makes you feel uplifted, the grief is real. It makes you feel awful but it does something to you. I mean, it works it out like perspiration.'

'Really, Tuppence, I find your remarks about my decease and the effect it will have upon you in exceedingly bad taste. I don't like it. Let's forget about funerals.'

'I agree. Let's forget.'

'The poor old bean's gone,' said Tommy, 'and she went peacefully and without suffering. So, let's leave it at that. I'd better clear up all these, I suppose.'

He went over to the writing table and ruffled through some papers.

'Now where did I put Mr. Rockbury's letter?'

'Who's Mr. Rockbury? Oh, you mean the lawyer who wrote to you.'

'Yes. About winding up her affairs. I seem to be the only one of the family left by now.'

'Pity she hadn't got a fortune to leave you,' said Tuppence.

'If she had had a fortune she'd have left it to that Cats' Home,' said Tommy. 'The legacy that she's left to them in her will will pretty well eat up all the spare cash. There won't be much left to come to me. Not that I need it or want it anyway.'