“He says there’s no hurry,” she explained. “Says he just dropped in for a word or two. Just to say howdy.”
“That’s—neighborly,” her husband commented. “Course, I’ve seen him every day, in court. But I haven’t had a chance to talk to him. To ask him how things are, down home.”
She nodded, smiling. “Another of your scruples, Bob?”
“It wouldn’t hardly have looked right,” he agreed. “The other side were doubtful, anyway, knowing I’d been attorney for the Furnace a few years ago, and knowing Jim and me were townsmen.”
“I know,” she assented.
“Case is finished, now, though,” he commented. “Tell Jim I’ll be through in fifteen or twenty minutes. You entertain him, Mary.”
She made a gesture of impatience. “He makes me uncomfortable,” she said. “I never liked him.”
The Judge smiled. “Oh, Jim’s all right. He’s fat; and he’s a little bit slick. But he means all right, I reckon. Give him a cigar and ask after his folks. He’ll do the talking for both of you.”
She nodded, moving toward the door. “Yes,” she assented; and asked: “I haven’t bothered you?”
The Judge smiled. “Lord, Honey, you never bother me.”