Mrs. Crane’s dreary face took on more animation than he had supposed it capable of. “It had lain there because it belonged there, and was made there! My husband was done out of it by an adventurer, and his friendship for you tied his hands. I must say you’ve shown very little consideration for him. You might have warned us never to let those papers go. You see Robert getting weaker all the time and having those terrible operations, and our girls going shabby and teaching in the ward schools, and Rosamond riding about in a limousine and building country houses—and you do nothing about it. You take your honours—you’ve deserved them, we never forget that—and move into your new house, and you don’t remember what it is to be in straitened circumstances.”
St. Peter drew his chair nearer to Mrs. Crane, and addressed her patiently. “ Mrs. Crane, if you had any legal rights in the patent, I’d defend them against Rosamond as soon as against anyone else. I think she ought to recognize Dr. Crane’s long friendship and helpfulness to Tom in some way. I don’t see just how it can be done, but I feel it should be. And if you wish, I’ll tell Rosamond how I feel. Why don’t you put this matter before her?”
“I don’t care to ask anything of Mrs. Marsellus. I wrote her some time ago, and she replied to me through her lawyer, saying that all claims against the Outland patent would be considered in due order. It’s not worthy of a man in Robert’s position to accept hush money from the Marselluses. We want justice, and my brother is confident the court will give it to us.”
“Well, I suppose Bright knows more about what the courts will do than I. But if you’ve decided to go to law about it, why did you come to me?”
“There are some things the law don’t cover,” said Mrs. Crane mysteriously, as she rose and put on her gloves. “I wanted you to know how we feel about it.”