"You think a great deal of Miss Marsh, don't you?"
"Think a great deal of her?" exclaimed Tod. "Ha! ha! The truth of the matter is that I— Ricaby— I— I— I'd marry her to-morrow—if—if she'd have me!"
Mr. Ricaby turned pale. Only by a great effort was he able to control himself. Yet by what right could he interfere? Paula cared more for this man than she admitted. He felt that. Why should he selfishly stand between them? Was that worthy of one who prided himself on his altruism?
"You would marry her?" he cried hoarsely.
Not noticing his companion's agitation, unaware of the pain he was inflicting, Tod went on:
"Yes, a fine position, ain't it? The first girl I really cared for locked up in a—in a—well, we'll call it a sanitarium. In order to get out she's got to face a public trial to prove she ought not to be there for the rest of her life. How many experts have we on our side?"
"Fifteen!" replied Mr. Ricaby.
"Why don't you get fifty?" cried the young man heatedly. "You can bet that Cooley will have a raft of 'em. Don't take any chances."
"I'm not going to," replied the lawyer quickly. "I've engaged two of the most eminent counsel in the country. They will represent us at the public examination."
Tod's jaw closed with an angry click and his face grew resolute and determined. Clenching his fists, he exclaimed: