He gave that short, ugly laugh of his.
"You think you're being kind, eh?"
Chesney's tone—almost his words again! Sophy, too, had her haunting nightmare.
The third day Loring decided to speak with Judge Macon "man to man." He asked for a private interview. The Judge gravely ushered him into his sanctum. As during that first "serious talk" with Sophy, he established himself in the revolving-chair before his desk. Loring sat to one side. He was pale and felt abominably nervous. The Judge looked calm and noncommittal. He waited for Loring to begin.
The young man began rather unfortunately:
"Sophy tells me she's confided in you about this teapot tempest of ours," he said. "I find it's devilish hard to get a woman to look sensibly at such things. But you're a man, Judge ..."
"Yes," admitted the Judge imperturbably, as the other paused.
".... You're a man," Loring continued. "You know that these ... a ... little lapses will occur 'in the best-regulated households'...."
The Judge's face took on suddenly the expression of a Rhadamanthus.
"May I ask what you refer to?" he said starkly.