“Naturally,” echoed Katherine.
“Of course you would agree to that?”
“I was just trying to think what a man would do,” she said meditatively, in the same soft tone. “But I suppose a man, after he had taken a case when no one else would take it, when it was hopeless—after he had spent months upon it, made himself unpopular by representing an unpopular cause, and finally worked out a line of defense that, when the evidence is gained, will not only clear his client but astound the city—after he had triumph and reputation almost within his grasp, I suppose a man would be quite willing to step down and out and hand over the glory to a newcomer.”
He looked at her sharply. But her face, or what he saw of it, showed no dissembling.
“But you are not stating the matter fairly,” he said. “You should consider the fact that you are at the end of your rope!”
“Yes, I suppose I should consider that,” she said slowly.
They were passing the Court House now. He tried to study her face, but it continued bent upon the sidewalk, as if in thought. They reached the jail, and she mounted the first step.
“Well, what do you say?” he asked.
She slowly raised her eyes and looked down on him guilelessly.
“You’ve been most thoughtful and kind—but if it’s just the same to you, I’d like to keep on with the case a little longer alone.”