They had reached Mr. Paul’s door; he pitched his cigar into the street and pulled out his keys, shaking them on the end of their chain.
“You mean, abstractly, is it right or wrong, under circumstances like these, where no third person is to be cleared or benefited, to tell? Does honor demand confession?”
“Yes,” said the vestryman; “was it a duty to speak, or a duty to be silent?”
There was a moment’s silence.
“Was West a fool or a saint?” insisted the younger man.
“I’ll be hanged if I know,” said the senior warden.