Doctor David listened stonily. Gregory lowered his voice.

"Suppose there's a woman mixed up in that situation. Not guiltily, but

there's a lot of talk. And suppose she lives it down, for ten years,

and then goes back to her profession, in a play the families take the

children to see, and makes good. It isn't hard to suppose that neither

of those two people wants the thing revived, is it?"

David cleared his throat.

"You mean, then, that there is danger of such a revival?"

"I think there is," Gregory said bitterly. "I recognized this man last

night, and called a fellow who knew him in the old days, Saunders,

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our stage manager. And a newspaper man named Bassett wormed it out of

Saunders. You know what that means."

David heard him clearly, but as though from a great distance.

"You can see how it appears to Bassett. If he's found it, it's the big

story of a lifetime. I thought he'd better be warned."

When David said nothing, but sat holding tight to the arms of his old

chair, Gregory reached for his hat and got up.

"The thing for him to do," he said, "is to leave town for a while. This

Bassett is a hound-hog on a scent. They all are. He is Bassett of the

Times-Republican. And he took Jud--he took your nephew's automobile

license number."

Still David sat silent, and Gregory moved to the door.

"Get him away, to-night if you can."

"Thank you," David said. His voice was thick. "I appreciate your

coming."

He got up dizzily, as Gregory said, "Good-evening" and went out. The

room seemed very dark and unsteady, and not familiar. So this was what

had happened, after all the safe years! A man could work and build and

pray, but if his house was built on the sand-As the outer door closed David fell to the floor with a crash.




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