"Just as I said," he went on aloud. "Pastor won't find it so hard, after all, to tell you what was in the letter."
"It—isn't it what I thought, then?" asked his wife in a milder tone. Her stubbornness was shaken by his evident anger and disapproval.
He looked at her sternly.
"Would you like me to tell you myself, or wait till Pastor comes?"
And in his impatience to punish her for her want of affection, he did not wait for an answer, but went on:
"They live in London—the Springfields. And Sven had gone back home to them there. But when the ugly stories began to get about, the father sent a paper with the news up to him—and a loaded revolver with it."
"And the mother—what about her? Did she know he'd sent it?"
"She knew—yes."
"And—and what then?"
"Then—why, it came about as they wished. That's all."