“George Chard!” cried Nora, all her woman’s feeling rising up in her soul, “Who says George Chard had anything to do with such a thing? Who dare say——”
“Hush, Nora!” interrupted Dan, gently. “They are already saying it!”
Nora was Irish, too, and a great wrath grew upon her.
“Do you mean to tell me that you stood by and listened to a cruel lie like that? It is a lie, a malicious, horrid lie, and I—I—I. Oh, I’ll tell them so! Tell them in their teeth!
“George Chard a thief! Good God! Who could be so wicked to dream of such a thing! The best, the bravest—and truest—why, Dan,” she blurted out, “Don’t you know I LOVE HIM! I love him more than anything or anybody on earth!”
And Nora, her face as red as fire, threw her arms round Dan’s neck and burst into a perfect maelstrom of thoroughly feminine sobs.
Chapter XVI.
AN INQUEST.
George Chard felt it bitterly hard that after his years of service he should earn not only the reproof of the head office, but that suspicion should in some way indefinitely be attached to him.