Ellis hesitated. "All of it?"
"Every bit. Leave out nothing."
"Hadn't you better think it over?"
"I've thought."
"It'll hit the old—your father pretty hard."
"I can't help it."
A surge of human pity overswept Ellis's stimulated journalistic keenness. "You don't have to do this, Hal," he suggested. "No other paper—"
"I do have to do it," retorted the other. "And worse."
Ellis stared.
"I've got to print the story of Milly's death: the facts just as they happened. And I've got to write it myself."