The Tundish was the first to break the awkward silence. “And if you don’t mind, I think I’ll follow our little friend’s example and leave you to it.” As he reached the door, he turned and smiled at us, all geniality and unconcern.
Five very uncomfortable people were left. There could be no doubt about which of the two alternatives we should choose. I think there was no doubt about that in any of our minds before a word was spoken. It was the tremendous difference between the reasons that led to our decisions that made our unanimity nothing but a mockery, and created an atmosphere that was thick with jealousy and distrust. As we stood about the room, it seemed to me that we were like the atoms of some unstable molecule, momentarily in unhappy association, but ready to dissociate and fly off on some course of our own, should the least provocation arise.
It was Ralph, for once, who took the initiative and broke the unpleasant little silence. “Well, of course we must agree to do what he tells us, though it seems to me that it is only prolonging the agony, and if I were in the doctor’s place, I should be glad to be gone and have done with it.”
I could see that Kenneth was ready for an outburst, and it came directly Ralph had completed his remark. “I can’t understand you. I can’t make you out at all. Murder might hardly be criminal from the way you seem to take it, and even a detestable murder like this—a girl poisoned in her bed—something to be borne in silence! I can hardly keep my hands off the brute, and the rest of you seem quite willing and even anxious to be friends.”
“Kenneth, how can you! Oh, how can you be so cruel! Suppose that you were in The Tundish’s place, how would you like it if we all of us turned against you and were ready to believe the worst? You seem almost as though you were anxious to believe that he did it.” Ethel had spoken quietly at first, but her sentence ended on a note of bitterness.
“That is a grossly unfair thing to say,” Kenneth answered hotly. “I might just as well say that you don’t care whether he did it or not, and I begin to think that I shouldn’t be far from the truth if I did say that. Everything proves that he doped the draft, and you can kiss him and fondle his hands! You don’t even reserve your judgment and say this man may be a vile murderer—you just flaunt your absurd hero-worship in front of us all. If he had a spark of decency in him he would give himself up.”
“Oh, yes, I know that is exactly what you would do. I can just see you doing it. I suppose you haven’t given a thought to what this will mean to daddy’s practise.”
“Why, what on earth do you mean? Surely he is not implicated in any way? It can’t make any difference to him.”
“Oh, can’t it!”
It was horrible to hear them quarreling, and I tried once or twice to interrupt them, but in their anger they ignored us entirely and might have been alone. At last I did manage to get in the remark that “Every one should be considered innocent until his guilt has been proved.”