An unusual sound made me look up. My wife was weeping, her head on her arms among the money and débris of the card-table.
"I—I didn't know," she said in a choked, half-stifled voice, "that you really meant what you said upstairs."
"I mean it as I never have meant anything since I told you that I loved you, dear," I answered gently.
She raised her face, wet with tears.
"That was such a long time ago!" she sobbed. "And I thought that all this was what you wanted." She glanced round the room.
"I did—once," I replied; "but I don't want it any longer. We can't live our lives over again; but"—and I went over to her—"we can try to do a little better from now on."
She laid her head on my arm and took my hand in hers.
"What shall we do?" she asked.
"We must free ourselves from our Burden," said I; "break down the wall of money that shuts us in from other people, and try to pay our way in the world by what we are and do rather than by what we have. It may be hard at first; but it's worth while—for all of us."
She disengaged one hand and wiped her eyes.