“Yes,” said Palliser, with a little smile, which something in his eyes redeemed from being coldly formal, “I believe you though I scarcely think it likely. Still, you have not answered my question.”
“My opinion is not worth much, sir.”
“I have asked you for it,” said Palliser. “Nobody knows Bernard so well as you do, and while I have scarcely a doubt in my own mind, Violet’s faith in him had its effect on me. After all, he belongs to us, and I would like to believe him innocent, incredible as it seems, or at least to hear something in extenuation. You will think me illogical in this, Craythorne?”
Craythorne smiled. “Then I admit that, being a lawyer, I am more so, for I would believe in Bernard Appleby against the evidence of my eyes. It also seems to me that the intuitions of young women of Miss Wayne’s kind merit more respect than they usually receive.”
“I am still waiting, Tony,” said Palliser.
Tony sat silent almost too long, for the words “either you or he” troubled him. Had Godfrey Palliser not spoken them he might have answered differently, but as it was his apprehensions overcame him.
“It is a hard thing to admit, but I am afraid my views have changed since then,” he said.
The lawyer regarded him covertly, and noticed the furtiveness of his eyes, but Palliser sighed. “You have,” he said, “nothing to urge in extenuation?”
“No, sir,” said Tony. “I wish I had!”
“Then you will be so much the richer,” said Palliser dryly. “Now Violet will be waiting, and Craythorne and I have a good deal to do. I shall retire when we have finished. Good night, Tony!”