"Yes, to me. I am your oldest friend, don't you see, and you owe it to me not to fail now."
He sprang forward impulsively, holding out both his hands.
"Ruth," he cried out, "what's the use of all this talk? You know it's you I love, and you I mean to marry."
I know now how a man feels when he strikes another full in the face for insulting him. I felt myself growing hot and then cold again; and I was literally speechless from indignation.
"I went crazy a while for a fool with a pretty face," he went rushing on; "but all that"—
"She is your wife, George Weston!" I broke in. "How dare you talk so to me!"
He was evidently astonished, but he persisted.
"We ought to be honest with each other now, Ruth," he said. "There's too much at stake for us to beat about the bush. I know I've behaved like a fool and a brute. I've hurt you and—and cheated you, and you've had every reason to throw me over like a sick dog; but when you made up the money I'd lost and didn't let Mr. Longworthy suspect, I knew you cared for me just the same!"
"Cared for you!" I blazed out. "Do you think I could have ruined any man's life for that? I love you no more than I love any other man with a wife of his own!"
"That's just it," he broke in eagerly. "Of course I knew you couldn't own you cared while she"—