"Too late, perhaps, by the regular methods--but there are always others. You have so much power--you give people the feeling you can do anything." He shook his head, still gazing at her. "You give me that feeling. Do this for me." "You could have done it yourself, so easily, before she was sentenced." "I know, I know. That's why I care so. Oh, Mr. O'Bannon, just for a moment, you and I----" Her voice sank so that Miss Bennett could not hear what she said, but she saw her put her hand on his arm like a person taking possession of her own belongings. Then there was no use in listening any more, for a complete silence had fallen between them; they did not even seem to be breathing. The district attorney suddenly raised his head with a quick shake, like a dog coming out of water, and stepped back. "It can't be done," he said. "If I were willing to break the law into pieces, I can't do it." Lydia's brow darkened. "You mean you won't," she said. "No," he answered quietly. "I mean just what I say. I can't. Remember you have had two chances to help the girl--at the first complaint, and in your conversation with the judge. Why didn't you do it then?" Why hadn't she? She didn't know, but she answered hastily: "I did not understand----" "You wouldn't understand," he returned, in that quiet, terrible tone that made her think somehow of Ilseboro. "I tried to tell you and you wouldn't wait to hear, and the judge tried to tell you and you wouldn't listen. People don't often get three chances in this world, Miss Thorne." His tone maddened her, in combination with her own failure. "Are you taking it upon yourself to reprove me, Mr. O'Bannon?" she asked. "I'm taking it upon myself to tell you how things are," he answered. "I don't believe it is the way they are," she said. Angry as she was, she did not mean the phrase to sound as insulting as it did. She meant that there must be some unsuspected avenue of approach; but her quick tone and insolent manner made the words themselves sound like the final insult. O'Bannon simply turned from her, and holding up his hand to the shifty-eyed boy said clearly, "I'll see you now, Gray." There was nothing for Lydia to do but accept her dismissal. She flounced out of the room, and all the way home in the car shocked Miss Bennett by her epithets. "Insolent country lout" was the mildest of them.