Augusta Huiell Seaman, Tranquillity House — Chapter 4 (1923)
“ Are you ill, Uncle Benham?” I cried, kneeling down by him. For answer, his lips moved, but not a sound came from them. Thinking that perhaps he was too weak to do more than whisper, I leaned my ear close to his mouth and then caught the words, hardly more than breathed, “Chest—lock—”Not till then did I look down at the floor. Open at his feet lay the old teakwood chest, and scattered all around were papers and letters and various legal-looking documents and one flat red velvet case or box. He had evidently been looking these things over when he was taken with this strange illness. ”
