She seemed to be thinking that last point over.
"Yes," she said, "I'm glad you came. I believe you can help me."
"I shall be delighted if I can."
"What do you think of Mrs. Fazakerly?"
Durant was a little taken aback by the suddenness of the question.
"What should I think?"
"I—I hardly know."
She knitted her black brows till they almost touched, and propped her chin with her hand, as if she were oppressed with the weight of her own thoughts. It struck him that her provincial mind entertained an unreasonable suspicion of the consummate little widow, a woman's jealousy of the superior creature compact of sex; and a sense of justice made him inclined to defend Mrs. Fazakerly. Besides, he liked Mrs. Fazakerly; she, at any rate, was not a bore.
"She's a very amusing woman, and I should say she was an uncommonly good sort, too."
To his surprise her face brightened. "Should you? Should you say that she had a good heart?"