The judge looked again at the paper, and then cast another searching look at Faunce.
“It’s strange,” he remarked, “that a thing like that should be cabled from London—from the correspondent of this paper, too; and they think it important enough for an extra.”
“Anything is important enough to make an extra penny on!” the little dean remarked caustically, coming to the rescue.
Dr. Gerry, standing back by the mantel, was watching Faunce. Knowing the story, he was convinced that in some miraculous way Overton had been rescued, and that Faunce must know it, too.
Rallying from the first shock, Faunce was facing it with some self-control.
“I think I can speak with more authority than the newspaper,” he managed to say. “I was there!”
“But—oh, Mr. Faunce, don’t you think it’s—it’s just possible?” pleaded Mrs. Price, clasping her hands. “A miracle may have happened. It would be so beautiful! It would make Diane so happy, it would make us all so happy, if dear Simon Overton could come back!”
Her little bubbling voice, like the pleasant singing of a teakettle, brought relief to a tense situation.
“That’s the way to look at it,” rejoined Dr. Gerry. “Let’s rejoice in the hope.”
Judge Herford bent his heavy brows.