"Like other men of his kind," returned Murgatroyd, "Challoner's decent at times—conducts himself like a man; but generally speaking, he's irretrievably bad."
"But can't you delay the trial—get him off in some way—some time? There are ways—the thing is done every day, and you know it."
Murgatroyd smiled grimly.
"My dear girl, if I would do this thing, I couldn't. I shall go a step farther. If I could do it, I wouldn't. I couldn't look you in the face, guilty as I should be of gross malfeasance in my office." He waved his hand in finality. "Not another word on the subject, please."
"You're immovable! You're cruel!" she cried, rising to her feet. "I ought not to have come! However, I have done what I could for a friend," she flung back at him, looking him straight in the eye, and started toward the door.
Murgatroyd blocked her way.
"No," he said good-humouredly, not the least disconcerted by her parting shot, "it's my turn now. You have attempted to corrupt me, swerve me from my duty and——"
"And wasted your time, I suppose, as you were good enough to remind me on a previous occasion," she returned, looking up saucily at him under her lashes.
Murgatroyd was quick to detect her change of mood and took his courage in both hands, saying:—
"Won't you for the moment forget the Challoners, Shirley? Be kind—you give me little opportunity to see you alone these days. Think only of yourself and me——"