He stopped and surveyed her anxiously. The deep creases over his nose, his short sentences, the sharp nervous movements of his hands, all betrayed the stress under which he spoke. It would disappoint him, perhaps stop him altogether, if she said that she did not follow. But as she assured him that she did, she wondered how much of his meaning she really missed. Nevertheless her manner seemed to satisfy him.
"If I went to you and asked for money to build a hospital or a school, or a church—"
She looked up sharply at that. But it was plain that there was no covert meaning in his words. He went on intently.
"You'd think that understandable enough. You'd probably hand it over. But, Miss Wynrod, I want your money for something of greater value to society than all the churches and hospitals put together. I want you to put your money to work clearing up this muddled old world of ours by bringing sunshine and oxygen and hope and understanding into men's minds. I want you—how can I possibly make clear to you how much I want it—I want you to—to—buy ... a newspaper!"
He stopped and waited for her to speak. But she could only echo the word stupidly. Then she managed to convey to him that she wanted him to go on. He did, but his voice seemed to have lost something of its intensity, and his words came with more confidence.
"Yes. I've told you so indirectly many times. But I never made it personal, partly because I hated to put my hopes to the test, partly because there seemed no opening. Now I have the opening. The divinity that shapes our ends is doing its best for me, it seems. I learned yesterday that The Dispatch would sell out at a ridiculous figure. That made me screw my courage up to the testing point. I came up this morning to tell you about it. Then your brother—why, it couldn't have worked out better for me! The opportunity his future offers as a lever to move you ... well, Miss Wynrod, what do you think?"
She laughed unaffectedly at that.
"What do I think? Heavens. How can I think. You fire an entirely novel idea at me and expect me to answer at once. You've stunned me."
"But it's not new," cried Good. "We've talked the idea of this over a hundred times."
"The oldest thing in the world is new when it's applied to one's self for the first time," said Judith sententiously.