earnest, but not altogether hopeful. "You see it's just a matter of those new bonds. I've got to float them or I can't leave, and the market seems tight."
"George!" she exclaimed impulsively. "Why don't you let me take those bonds? You know I've been wanting to put my money in the works." Instantly she felt her husband's body stiffen.
"Fay," he reminded her in tones of near reproach, "I couldn't do that, you know. Bless your dear, generous heart, I simply couldn't." There seemed to be unalterable decision in his tones.
"But what are you going to do then, George—about—about arranging to get away?"
"This," her husband answered with sudden resolution. "This: I had an offer today for the bonds. If I don't get a better proposition by tomorrow noon, I'll go to those fellows and close up. Then I can go with you on the trip. There!"
"You darling!" she cried, and flung her arms around him afresh. "Oh, George!" she sighed in tenderest love rapture. "I can forgive you anything when you're—like this."
And George in this moment knew how heartily he too could forgive her every exaction and whim and waywardness and innocently stubborn refusal to understand. But he couldn't
