“Don’t be silly, Harvey. You know what he is and you ought to tell Horatia.”
Harvey tried again with that disinclination to hurt the personal reputation of a man which most men show in such discussion.
“Jack Hubbell sued his wife for divorce and named Langley, who’d been philandering a lot. Langley always did that. He was a University man about my time and a tremendous fellow. Everybody worshipped his footsteps.”
“I’ve heard of him there,” said Horatia.
“He had a little money and started this newspaper, which would have been all right if he hadn’t refused to tie himself up with any political party and hadn’t also refused to make any concessions to advertisers. Seemed to have an idea that newspapers are run like books. Then he got a lot of booze-fighters working for him and sort of lost his grip. That’s all there’s to it. When his money gives out his paper will go to the wall.”
“But the divorce suit?”
“You’re as bad as the rest of them,” sighed poor Harvey. “Stick to the scandal. It never came to trial at all. Hubbell killed himself after the suit was filed.”
Maud finished.
“And he didn’t marry the woman or make any attempt to justify the situation. Just stopped going places and refused to explain anything. Naturally people assume the worst.”
Horatia felt a little pale. She could hear his kind voice, with the tinge of bitterness in it. And his remark, “Probably you won’t want to work for me after you hear what people say.” Well, she had heard. And she did want to work for him. They’d outlawed him from their silly society because he’d held his tongue. Probably none of it was true. And if it was true it didn’t matter. She brought her last reflection into words.