“Haven’t you seen her?” asked Kennedy.
“She hasn’t been home since I came back to Westville. When I left here she was a tomboy—mostly legs and freckles.”
The prosecutor’s lean face crinkled with a smile.
“I guess you’ll find she’s grown right smart since then. She went to one of those colleges back East; Vassar, I think it was. She got hold of some of those new-fangled ideas the women in the East are crazy over now—about going out in the world for themselves, and——”
“Idiots—all of them!” snapped Bruce.
“After she graduated, she studied law. When she was back home two years ago she asked me what chance a woman would have to practise law in Westville. A woman lawyer in Westville—oh, Lord!”
The prosecutor leaned back and laughed at the excruciating humour of the idea.
“Oh, I know the kind!” Bruce’s lips curled with contempt. “Loud-voiced—aggressive—bony—perfect frights.”
“Let me suggest,” put in Doctor Sherman, “that Miss West does not belong in that classification.”
“Yes, I guess you’re a little wrong about Katherine West,” smiled Kennedy.