“Animus–unfriendliness,” Hezekiah interpreted.
Obadiah’s uneasiness affected his temper. “Why don’t you speak English?” he demanded, the pitch of his voice getting higher.
For an instant there was a flash in Hezekiah’s eyes but when he spoke he was perfectly calm. “I beg pardon, I failed to make allowances for–your understanding.”
Obadiah regarded his attorney angrily but made no reply. Years of experience had warned him against verbal combat with this man. Usually he did not awaken to the danger until he rankled under one of Hezekiah’s darts.
Disregarding the exchange of compliments, the lawyer went on, perfectly unruffled, “Is there a reason for this young man to entertain ill will against you?”
“I never heard of the fellow before,” protested Obadiah.
“Is he acquainted with your daughter?”
“No.” Obadiah hesitated after his denial and modified it. “She helped to take him to the hospital and she has visited him since, I understand.”
“Ah!” Comprehension lighted Hezekiah’s face. “You told me,” he suggested, “that your daughter considered herself to be to blame for the accident.”
“Yes,” Obadiah agreed with reluctance. “Virginia has a silly idea that she was at fault. She felt very badly over the matter.”