Now, after hearing Lane Griswold’s unguarded statement, there was no longer any room for doubt in her mind. She staggered forward half blindly, and, forgetting the doctor, or ignoring him, she laid both trembling hands on Griswold’s sleeve.
“My—my husband!” she stammered. “Then he—took——”
The newspaper proprietor lowered his head.
“Yes,” he answered soberly. “I’ve tried to keep the truth from you as long as I could, Mrs. Simpson. I thought you were out of earshot. You must try to bear up under it. If I had had any intention of prosecuting Simpson for making away with the relief fund he was handling, this whole affair would not have been conducted with any such secrecy. I have hired private detectives to investigate, because I wished to keep things quiet, in order that the reputation of the Chronicle and Observer might not be tarnished.”
“Then, if they catch John, he’ll not be arrested? Is that what you mean?”
“Exactly,” he answered. “I must confess, Mrs. Simpson, that I shall not approve in every way of such an outcome. I believe in just punishment. As it happens, however, we’re not in a position to punish your husband without starting a lot of injurious gossip about the way we handle public contributions. Therefore, when Simpson is found, he’ll merely be forced to disgorge. His discharge is already awaiting him on his desk, of course. Beyond that, I shall do nothing.”
As may be imagined, Mrs. Simpson’s emotions were chaotic. Her horror at the certainty of her husband’s crime had been succeeded by loving anguish, as she pictured his arrest and punishment. Now she was greatly relieved to hear that there was no danger of this; but, on the other hand, her heart bled as she realized what it would necessarily mean to them both, at best. He was no longer a young man, and had been able to save very little. His disgrace and the loss of his position would almost certainly age him greatly, perhaps cause a complete breakdown. Nothing but misery seemed in prospect.
“I—I thank you, but I’m in—in no condition to remain!” the poor woman sobbed, and, turning on her heel, precipitately left the room and fled upstairs.
Griswold and the doctor exchanged glances. The former was as sorry for Mrs. Simpson as he could be in his own way.