Kelly bowed.
“And I shall write to King-lo,” she repeated hysterically.
“And he will hand your note to me to answer,” the lawyer told her smoothly.
“Show a woman’s letter—her personal letter—to you! He couldn’t!”
“Pardon me; he would have to. And I have seen many women’s personal letters.” He smiled a little.
“I shall mark it ‘Private,’ ” the girl almost hissed.
The lawyer bowed. But hard as he was—all buckram and broadcloth and relentless procedure—he was sorry for the unstrung pallid creature facing him. He had diagnosed her as Dr. Ray had—as quickly and convincedly. Lawyers see as much, perhaps, of that complex as physicians do—even in New England.
“You will let me know—when you have considered it—your decision as to whether we are to ferret out, as we undoubtedly can, the originator of the false and abominable falsehood, or to let that part of it drop. Our only wish is to spare you further annoyance.”
“I’ll let Mr. Sên know,” Miss Hamilton answered haughtily. “You are not my lawyer. I’ll choose my own lawyer, if I want one.”
Kelly bowed.