killed Mrs. Hunt
during a sudden access of mental irresponsibility.
It is whispered that Hunt, improperly, in some
devious way, got the matter hushed up and the
affair reported as an accident. As a result of
these absurd and terrible rumors, Hunt finds
himself a pariah--many of his oldest acquaintances
no longer recognize him when they meet. It is a
thoroughly distressing situation, and it's
difficult to see how the mad injustice of it can
be easily righted.

"The danger is, of course, that some misguided
person will get the whole matter into the
newspapers; it is really a miracle that it has not
already been seized on by some yellow sheet, the
opportunity for a sensational story is so
obviously ripe. Happily"--oh, Phil! oh,
philosopher!--"the present curious tension in
European politics is for the moment turning
journalistic eyes far from home. But as all such
diplomatic flurries do, this one will pass,
leaving the flatness of the silly season upon us.
This is what Hunt most fears; and when you next
see him you will find him grayer and older because
of this anxiety.

"He dreads, for you, a sudden journalistic demand
for a public investigation, and feels--though in
this I can hardly agree with him--that such a
demand could end only in a public trial, in view
of the peculiar nature of all the circumstances
involved--a veritable _cause celebre_.

"How shocking all this must be to you. The sense
of the mental anguish I'm causing you is a horror
to me. Nothing could have induced me to write in
this way but the compulsion of my love for Hunt
and you. It seems to me imperative that your names
should be publicly cleared, in advance of any
public outcry.

"So I urge you, Susan--fully conscious of my
personal responsibility in doing so--to return at
once and to join with Hunt and your true friends
in quashing finally and fully these damnable lies.
It is my strong conviction that this is your duty
to yourself, to Hunt, and to us all. If you and
Hunt, together or separately, make a publi