"Mr. Ledsam," Hilditch said, speaking with quiet dignity, "I hope
that you will forgive the liberty I take in speaking to you here.
I looked for you the moment I was free this afternoon, but found
that you had left the Court. I owe you my good name, probably my
life. Thanks are poor things but they must be spoken."
"You owe me nothing at all," Francis replied, in a tone which
even he found harsh. "I had a brief before me and a cause to
plead. It was a chapter out of my daily work."
"That work can be well done or ill," the other reminded him
gently. "In your case, my presence here proves how well it was
done. I wish to present you to my wife, who shares my
gratitude."
Francis bowed to the woman, who now, at her husband's words,
raised her eyes. For the first time he saw her smile. It seemed
to him that the effort made her less beautiful.
"Your pleading was very wonderful, Mr. Ledsam," she said, a very
subtle note of mockery faintly apparent in her tone. "We poor
mortals find it difficult to understand that with you all that
show of passionate earnestness is merely--what did you call it?
--a chapter in your day's work? It is a great gift to be able
to argue from the brain and plead as though from the heart."
"We will not detain Mr. Ledsam," Oliver Hilditch interposed, a
little hastily.
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