“But must we go to Mr. Benson?”
“Don't you wish me to speak to him?”
“I don't,” said Virginia quietly.
“Then it would be easy enough to go across to Belmont County and look into the records. I suppose you never saw the original deeds; they were among the papers your husband left with Mr. Benson.”
“I suppose so.”
“What do you want me to do, Mrs. Landray?”
“Can you go to Belmont County?”
“Most assuredly, if you wish it. Perhaps that is the best plan—there's no dodging the records in the case, you know.”
While Wade was entirely friendly to Benson, he was more of a lawyer than a friend, and the case had certain romantic interest for him; spectacular possibilities on which his mind fed subtly, fascinated. Then there was the lapse of time, the curious way in which it had all worked out, the idea of being opposed to Benson in litigation that would shake the town to its centre, the splendid publicity.
All these phases of the possible case he saw, charmed and inspired him; and he swore softly under his breath as he strode back to the office.