"Yes," I said; "tell me about it."
"You guessed, of course, that it is a matter that affects me deeply and seriously?"
"I was afraid so. I could not be certain, of course, but I felt that it was much more than an ethical conundrum."
"God knows it was, and He knows, too, that I am grateful to you for the clear lead you gave, suspecting, as you must have done, that it meant much to me."
Had I suspected? I suppose I did, for my heart, I remember, beat painfully; yet I had not thought much more of it since. I looked at him, and saw that his face was white but resolute, and I said hesitatingly:
"I am sorry if you are in trouble, but Farmer Goodenough thinks that troubles are blessings in disguise. I wish I could give you more than second-hand comfort."
"I am going to tell you exactly where I stand," he said, "and you must not allow your woman's instinct of comfort to cloud or bias your judgment. Goodenough may be right, but if I take the step I contemplate it will not be because I expect good to result to myself—though there may be, no doubt, a certain spiritual gain—but because it is the only course possible to me if I am to retain my self-respect.
"You will hardly have heard of a rather prominent case in which I figured recently as counsel for the plaintiff."
"Lessingham versus Mainwaring?" I queried.
"You have heard of it then? Do you know the details?"