be blackballed to a dead certainty," he said miserably.

"Probably, if the story gets out. It's tough, I know." Jeff's eyes
gleamed angrily. "And why should they? You're just as good a man
to-day as you were yesterday. But there's nothing so fettering, so
despicable as good form. It blights. Let a man bow down to the
dead hand of custom and he can never again be true to what he
thinks and knows. His judgment gets warped. Soon Madame Grundy
does his thinking for him, along well-grooved lines."

"Oh, well! That's just talk. What am I to do?" James broke out
nervously.

"I know what I would do in your case."

"What?"

"Come out with a short statement telling the exact facts. I'd make
no apologies or long explanation. Just the plain story as simply
as you can."

"Well, I'll not," the lawyer broke out. "Easy enough for you to
say what I ought to do. Look at who my friends are--the Fromes
and the Merrills and the Gilmans. Best set in town. I strained a
point when I broke loose from them to take up this progressive
fight. They'd cut me dead if a story like this came out."

"I daresay. Communities are loaded to the guards with respectable
cowards. But if you stand on your own feet like a man they'll
think more of you for it. Most of them will be glad to know you