“Not quite,” Daniel retorted dryly. “You owe something to Judge Jessup and the jury.” Leigh seemed to be deaf to this. He went sulkily to the door and opened it. “I think William’s a brute,” he remarked in a low voice. “She loves him--I know she loves him, and she’s his wife!” He went out and slammed the door. XXV VIRGINIA hung up the telephone receiver with an expression of keen relief. She had just heard of Leigh’s acquittal. “Dan got him off!” the colonel told her jubilantly. “I knew he would! Say, Jinny, I shan’t be home for lunch; going over to the club with Payson and Jessup.” Virginia smiled to herself. She knew how the old man would enjoy it, and she did not care for any luncheon herself. She told Plato so, half an hour later. The old man retired grumbling. “’Deed, Miss Jinny, yo’ be sick. I’m gwine to tell de col’nel!” But she only laughed at him. She was, in fact, too nervous to eat. It seemed as if food would choke her. She knew everything that had taken place in that court-house almost as well as if she had been there. The colonel had been very vivid in his talk, and she had spoken once over the ’phone with Mrs. Carter and once with Emily. On all these occasions she had heard the amazing fact that Fanchon’s story on the stand had been a surprise to her husband. In other words, poor William had been deceived, Mrs. Carter declared, by a designing little minx, and his life ruined! This cry of maternal anguish went to the listener’s heart, for Virginia had known William from childhood, and she understood, even more keenly than his mother, the humiliation he had suffered in court. She moved restlessly about the house, trying not to think of it. She had gathered flowers in the morning, and could not make the garden another means of diverting her mind, so she tried to answer some long-neglected letters. This failed her, too, after a while, and she went into the old drawing-room, which at this hour was carefully shaded from the sun. Opening a shutter, she let in a flood of golden light. It shot across the room like the fiery lance of a crusader, its radiant tip striking on the ivory keys of her old piano. Virginia walked in it, watching the light catch on the white folds of her skirt. She sat down dreamily at the piano and began to play. She played without her notes, and unconsciously her fingers strayed into old, half-forgotten tunes.