“Indeed, yes, Mr. Martin, I do know him—slightly, perhaps; but ‘queer’ is not the adjective I would have applied to him.”
The lawyer leaned forward.
“Miss Barrington, what do you know of him? Did it ever occur to you how very little any of us know of this man?”
The lady stirred uneasily.
“Really, Mr. Martin, I know him for a gentleman, as you do—I might also add that he is quite a noted philanthropist, of late,” she added teasingly.
“‘Philanthropist!’” scorned the lawyer.
Miss Barrington’s manner instantly changed.
“Mr. Westbrook is doing a world of good with his money; I admire him for it,” she said with decision.
“Oh, of course,” returned the man smoothly. “Still, I wonder why—this sudden generosity!”
“Sudden? It’s a long time since I first heard of Mr. Westbrook’s good deeds, Mr. Martin,” replied Miss Barrington, a vision of Pedler Jim and his hospital rising before her eyes.