He nodded.
“And she doesn't know! You haven't told her?”
The minister shook his head.
“He will tell her. See, he is telling her now!”
The mother drew a shade nearer.
“But how do you know? See, she is doing the talking. You think he will tell her? What will he tell her, Graham?”
“Oh, he will not tell her in words, but every atom of his being is telling her now. Can't you see? He is telling her that he is no longer worthy to be her equal. He is telling her that something has gone wrong.”
“Graham, what do you think is the matter with him? Do you think he is—BAD?” She lifted frightened eyes to his as she dropped into her low chair that always stood conveniently near his desk.
A wordless sorrow overspread the minister's face, yet there was something valiant in his eyes.
“No, I can't think that. I must believe in him in spite of everything. It looks to me somehow as if he was trying to be bad and couldn't.”