Harry didn't respond, crossing his arms slowly after a long moment and moving back to the large window behind the desk, leaning against the wall and staring out of it into the gathering darkness. "I'm glad he didn't hurt you." He said after what could have been an age, his mind whirling away quietly behind eyes lost in the gloom outside, trying to make out the shapes of the houses opposite. Darby. Pity the bastard was dead, but there wasn't anything Harry could do about his fate now, after all. Nothing. And Mary's story didn't make Slater a nice man, didn't by any stretch of the imagination. He killed people, people who didn't deserve it, more importantly, and now he was threatening Harry's livelihood. Mary's past didn't come into it, didn't prove a thing, aside from Slater might have had a few more human emotions than Harry had previously given him credit for.
"I'm glad he looked after you. I would have done, if I'd known." He said, turning to her, hoping that she knew he would have done anything to protect her. Anything. But business wasn't that easy, it wasn't simply and it wasn't full of Christian charity.