fore her. He seized her hands and held them to his cheeks. "I have tried to think it out, Margaret. Over and over again, I have tried to think it out. I don't know of anything I could do at which I could expect to make money."
"To make money!" she cried. "Look at me, Eric! Look at me or I will kneel down too! There! Now what were you saying? What were you saying to me?"
"A man who loves and has love from a girl has to have money, dear. I haven't thought I had to have much money; Margaret, I know you well enough for that. But if we must love, we must marry and live. And if I give up my work to do something just to make money—"
"You wouldn't be you, dear, and I wouldn't marry you. If you did that and I let you do it to be married, we'd never be happy together."
"Then," he appealed to her; "then, Margaret, what is there for us?"
"We haven't got to know now, dear! At least, I haven't! You love me and I love you. Isn't that more than enough for us now? . . . To-morrow you're going into the Arctic to be
