"No wonder we never even heard--"
"And what then?" repeated Rachel, with a quiet and compelling scorn.
"Does it put one outside the local pale to keep to oneself any painful
incident in one's own career? Is an accusation down here the same thing
as a conviction? Is there nothing to choose between 'guilty' and 'not
guilty'?"
"You must be aware," proceeded Mrs. Venables, without taking any notice
of these questions--"indeed, you cannot fail to be perfectly well
aware--that a large proportion of the public was dissatisfied with the
verdict in your case."
"Your husband, for one!" Rachel agreed, with a scornful laugh. "He would
have come to see me hanged; he told me so at his own table."
"You never would have been at his table," retorted Mrs. Venables, with
some effect, "if he or I had dreamt who you were; but now that we know,
you may be quite sure that none of us will sit at yours."
And Mrs. Venables rose up in all her might and spite, her brown eyes
flashing, her handsome head thrown back.
"Are you still speaking for the district?" inquired Rachel, conquering a
recreant lip to put the question, and putting it with her finest scorn.
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