It was Canon Wealthy.
“I may mention,” he added, “that Mr. Storm has now returned to his duties, and is at present in the hospital.”
“Send for him,” said the chairman.
When John Storm entered the board room it was remarked that he looked no better for his holiday. His cheeks were thinner, his eyes more hollow, and there was a strange pallor under his swarthy skin.
The business was explained to him, and he was asked if he had any statement to make with regard to the nurse whom the matron had reported for suspension.
“No,” he said, “I have no statement.”
“Do you mean to tell the board,” said the chairman, “that you know nothing of this matter—that the case is too trivial for your attention—or perhaps that you have never even spoken to the girl on the subject?”
“That is so—I never have,” said John.
“Then you shall do so now,” said the chairman, and he put his hand on the bell beside him, and the messenger appeared.
“You can not intend, sir, to examine the girl here,” said John.