"I did not stop you," he hastily assured her. "I am too anxious to hear what you have to say. Go on, Imogene. What did this Mansell betray? I—I ask as a father might," he added, with some dignity and no little effort.
But her fears had taken alarm, or her caution been aroused, and she merely said:
"The five thousand dollars which his aunt leaves him is just the amount he desired to start him in life."
"Did he wish such an amount?" Mr. Orcutt asked.
"Very much."
"And acknowledged it in the conversation he had with you?"
"Yes."
"Imogene," declared the lawyer, "if you do not want to insure Mr. Mansell's indictment, I would suggest to you not to lay too great stress upon any talk you may have held with him."
But she cried with unmoved sternness, and a relentless crushing down of all emotion that was at once amazing and painful to see:
"The innocent is to be saved from the gallows, no matter what the fate of the guilty may be."