Mrs. Fargus, seeing at last that the situation compelled her to speak, rested her chin on her palm and said as though to herself:
"So Fargus is dead!"
"Eh, eh!" the lawyer cried instantly, shooting a sharp look, "a moment ago that overwhelmed you. But you are reconciled already, I suppose."
She showed some confusion, but returned immediately:
"Sure I'm shocked; poor fellow, after all he did love me."
Displeased to find her self-possessed, the lawyer, not to waken her mistrust, seemed to accept her attitude by launching into a diatribe.
"Yes, yes, cling to your respectability. You women are all the same. Virtue always! Do you do it to fool us or yourselves? Come now, you know that old Fargus's death is a stroke of luck! Why the deuce, then, don't you admit it?"
"You don't understand," she said coldly.
He searched her face with aroused curiosity, saying to himself, "No, my lady, you bet I don't." Then continuing his plan of battle he occupied himself with his plate.