We found the patient reclining in an easy chair, swathed in
bandages, a wreck of her former self. I felt the tragedy keenly.
All that social position and beauty had meant to her had been
suddenly blasted.
"You will pardon my presumption," began Craig, "but, Mrs. Close,
I assure you that I am actuated by the best of motives. We
represent the New York Star--"
"Isn't it terrible enough that I should suffer so," she
interrupted, "but must the newspapers hound me, too?"
"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Close," said Craig, "but you must be
aware that the news of your suit of Dr. Gregory has now become
public property. I couldn't stop the Star, much less the other
papers, from talking about it. But I can and will do this, Mrs.
Close. I will see that justice is done to you and all others
concerned. Believe me, I am not here as a yellow journalist to
make newspaper copy out of your misfortune. I am here to get at
the truth sympathetically. Incidentally, I may be able to render
you a service, too."
"You can render me no service except to expedite the suit against
that careless doctor--I hate him."
"Perhaps," said Craig. "But suppose someone else should be proved
to have been really responsible? Would you still want to press
the suit and let the guilty person escape?"
She bit her lip.
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