“Ah! So you won your case yesterday.” The penetrating eyes were upon him with their snake-like glitter. Herriard saw, but did not meet them.
“Yes; as you predicted.”
“Did I? Ah, yes. You see you did not lose much by Campion’s disappearance from the scene.”
“I am inclined to think we did,” Herriard replied. “We just got our verdict, and I fancy that was all.”
“H’m!” Gastineau shut his thin lips significantly. “Perhaps it is not to be wondered at. You did not bring me the news after Court yesterday.”
Herriard turned now and faced the question which lay beneath the reproach. “For two reasons,” he replied boldly. “One, I had to hurry off to the House, and was kept there. The Government were in a bad way, and the opportunity had to be made the most of.”
“Quite right,” Gastineau agreed. “And reason number two? Forgive my curiosity, but you mentioned a second.”
“Reason number two,” Herriard answered, with a short laugh, “was that I did not think you took a very devouring interest in the case.”
“Why, my dear fellow? Why should you think that? On the contrary, I have taken great interest in it.”
“I am afraid,” said Herriard, “our interests were not the same.” For an instant Gastineau looked at him searchingly, almost defiantly; then he laughed, as he rejoined, “My dear Geof, interest is an equivocal word. Beyond a professional attraction my only interest is your success and advancement. In this case I happen to hold a different opinion from yours, but surely that need not lessen my interest.”