I got up and walked to the window, and came back again and stood before her.

“I’m sorry for this man, Galligan,” I went on, “I can’t tell you how sorry.  But few people who are not on the inside, so to speak, grasp the fact that big corporations, like the Railroad, are looked upon as fair game for every kind of parasite.  Not a day passes in which attempts are not made to bleed them.  Some of these cases are pathetic.  It had cost the Railroad many times fifteen thousand dollars to fight Galligan’s case.  But if they had paid it, they would have laid themselves open to thousands of similar demands.  Dividends would dwindle.  The stockholders have a right to a fair return on their money.  Galligan claims that there was a defective sill on the car which is said to have caused the wreck.  If damages are paid on that basis, it means the daily inspection of every car which passes over their lines.  And more than that:  there are certain defects, as in the present case, which an inspection would not reveal.  When a man accepts employment on a railroad he assumes a certain amount of personal risk,—­it’s not precisely a chambermaid’s job.  And the lawyer who defends such cases, whatever his personal feelings may be, cannot afford to be swayed by them.  He must take the larger view.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it before?” she asked.

“Well, I didn’t think it of enough importance—­these things are all in the day’s work.”

“But Mr. Krebs?  How strange that he should be here, connected with the case!”

I made an effort to control myself.

“Your old friend,” I said.  “I believe you have a sentiment about him.”

She looked up at me.

“Scarcely that,” she replied gravely, with the literalness that often characterized her, “but he isn’t a person easily forgotten.  He may be queer, one may not agree with his views, but after the experience I had with him I’ve never been able to look at him in the way George does, for instance, or even as father does.”

“Or even as I do,” I supplied.

“Well, perhaps not even as you do,” she answered calmly.  “I believe you once told me, however, that you thought him a fanatic, but sincere.”

“He’s certainly a fanatic!” I exclaimed.

“But sincere, Hugh-you still think him sincere.”

“You seem a good deal concerned about a man you’ve laid eyes on but once.”

She considered this.

“Yes, it is surprising,” she admitted, “but it’s true.  I was sorry for him, but I admired him.  I was not only impressed by his courage in taking charge of me, but also by the trust and affection the work-people showed.  He must be a good man, however mistaken he may be in the methods he employs.  And life is cruel to those people.”

“Life is-life,” I observed.  “Neither you nor I nor Krebs is able to change it.”

“Has he come here to practice?” she asked, after a moment.