“To begin with,” he said, “let me apologize for a mistake--a regrettable mistake. The instructions I gave hurriedly last night over the telephone were misunderstood. But I want you to believe”--the soft voice was now fused with feeling--“that that mistake, deplorable as it is, after all, is only of minor importance.” Helen could only gasp. Of only minor importance! How dare he say that! “You see, on inquiry, we learn that the speech was made as reported.” “But Mr. Endor declares that he never used the words attributed to him,” was Helen’s answer, quick and stern. “So I understand. But is Mr. Endor’s memory to be trusted? that is the point. He spoke without notes; he has no evidence of what he said impromptu, almost, as it were, on the spur of the moment, at a champagne luncheon. Many a man has wished to take back words, uttered under such circumstances. You see, the difficulty that arises in this case is”--the hooded eyes were opening and fastening upon her--“that three members of our staff who, by the way, were the only reporters there, are in unanimous agreement as to the words Mr. Endor used. They may not be the words Mr. Endor intended to use, but that is hardly a matter for the U. P.” With those eyes fixed on her, Helen felt a chill spread through her veins. “You see, my dear child,”--the father once more--“the evidence so far as we are concerned is conclusive. Three trusted members of the U. P. staff against one ... shall I say ... ra ... ther ... no, no, I beg your pardon ... I’d forgotten he’s your fiancé!” “Last night,” Helen managed to say, in spite of the tentacles that pinned her now, “you promised to contradict the U. P. version, and withdraw it from circulation.” “So I did,” was the gentle answer. “But I may not have realized ... quite adequately realized that our version was the only one at that moment in existence. Moreover, it places us in an awkward ... an immensely awkward position to have to go back on our own people ... whom we trust implicitly. However,”--the intense pain in her eyes did not escape him--“a promise is a promise, even if unwisely given. The U. P. is going to publish Mr. Endor’s disclaimer, and if I may say so ... if I may claim so much for it ... it is going to have the signal generosity not to divulge the facts upon which, in my humble judgment, it is fully entitled to rely. Indeed, having regard to the special ... the very special circumstances,”--a note of magnanimity was now in the voice of the Colossus--“I give you my word that the U. P. will not put in this very strong evidence on its own behalf unless Mr. Endor should happen to think that an action can lie against it. In that event, of course, I’m afraid it will have to be a case of _cet animal est très mechant_!” “What good,” said Helen, “can this contradiction do Mr. Endor now? The lie has gone round the world and the truth can never overtake it.” “Lie is a hard word,” said the Colossus, softly.