“I have no patience with him for leaving her,” said Virginia.
“It is hard to condone,” admitted the lawyer.
“It seems to me, Mr. Benson, that since he was too careless to think of his wife's happiness himself, some friend should have reminded him of his duty.”
“I am aware his judgment in the matter may readily be called into question, Mrs. Landray, but I suppose he expects to make his fortune.” He was bent on agreeing with her. He felt her anger but was unable to determine a motive for it.
“And so make amends for all his selfishness? As if he ever could,” cried Virginia in a tone of keen exasperation.
Benson picked up his hat and smoothed the crown nervously. Her manner was inexplicable.
“I wonder you did not advise him as to his duty,” added Virginia.
“I, Mrs. Landray? Why, I never spoke ten words to the man in my life until the day before the company left; then he came to my office and placed one or two small matters of business in my hands.”
“Oh,” said Virginia haughtily. “Your advice was reserved for your friends and clients.”
“Really, Mrs. Landray,” answered Benson quietly, “I am very unfortunate in that I seem to have offended you, but I assure you I am quite in the dark as to what my misdeeds are.”