Dick took her chin between his thumb and finger and his face grew tender as he looked into her eyes. "You were a very foolish girl to do that, Virginia," he said. "I should have thought you would have known better."
"I didn't know there was such a sharp turn," she said. "I pulled up the moment I got round the corner."
"Oh, well! never mind about that," said Dick. "It was unfortunate, but it wouldn't have made him want to disinherit me. He can't disinherit me, you know. It's just like him to go blundering into a course like this, which he hasn't got the firmness to keep up."
"That letter doesn't look as if he lacked firmness," Virginia said. "Dick dear, what shall you do?"
Dick did not answer this question directly. He had his father's habit of following out his own train of thought and ignoring, or rather not noticing, interruption. "He must know perfectly well," he said, "that I can raise money quite easily on my prospects. I dare say he hasn't thought of that, though. He never does think a thing thoroughly out. He wouldn't be happy if I threatened to do it."
"Oh, Dick, Dick!" exclaimed Virginia, "why do you want to worry about money? I have plenty for both of us."
"My dear, I've told you that's impossible," said Dick a little impatiently. "Don't keep harping on it."
It gave her a thrill of delight to be spoken to in that way—by him. She had been used to being ordered to do something or not to do something by a man, but not by the man she loved. She kept obedient silence, but gave Dick's arm a little squeeze.
"I'm not going to do it, though," he went on. "I should hate it as much as he would. Let's sit down, Virginia. I'll tell you what I'm going to do."
They sat down on the sofa, and Dick took a cigarette out of his case. Virginia held it open. "Couldn't I have just one?" she pleaded.