"Mr. Aram," he said, "might have thought of his family and his father
before he went into this business. It is rather late now. But," he
added, "I don't think it is a matter we can decide in any event. It
should be left to the firm."

"Yes," said the editor, hurriedly, glad of the excuse to temporize, "we
must leave it to the house." But he read Bronson's answer to mean that
he did not intend to let the plagiarist escape, and he knew that even
were Bronson willing to do so, there was still his City Editor to be
persuaded.

The two men rose and stood uncomfortably, shifting their hats in their
hands--and avoiding each other's eyes. Mr. Aram stood up also, and
seeing that his last chance had come, began again to plead desperately.

"What good would fifteen dollars do me?" he said, with a gesture of his
hands round the room. "I don't have to look for money as hard as that I
tell you," he reiterated, "it wasn't the money I wanted. I didn't mean
any harm. I didn't know it was wrong. I just wanted to please my
wife--that was all. My God, man, can't you see that you are punishing
me out of all proportion?"

The visitors walked towards the door, and he followed them, talking the
faster as they drew near to it. The scene had become an exceedingly
painful one, and they were anxious to bring it to a close.

The editor interrupted him. "We will let you know," he said, "what we
have decided to do by to-morrow morning."