THE TOUCHSTONE
"Good heavens! If there were any reparation—" He rose quickly and crossed the space that divided them. "Why did you never speak?"
"Haven't you answered that yourself?"
"Answered it?"
"Just now—when you told me you did it for me."
She paused a moment and then went on with a deepening note—"I would have spoken if I could have helped you."
"But you must have despised me."
"I've told you that would have been simpler."
"But how could you go on like this—hating the money?"
"I knew you'd speak in time. I wanted you, first, to hate it as I did."
He gazed at her with a kind of awe. "You're wonderful," he murmured. "But you don't yet know the depths I've reached."
She raised an entreating hand. "I don't want to!"
"You 're afraid, then, that you'll hate me?"
"No—but that you'll hate me. Let me understand without your telling me."
[ 145 ]
