"I'll wager you would never be afraid of a thing, if you once got into it, or wanted to get into it!" he cried.
She laughed again, a self-confident and reassuring little laugh.
"I've been through too many things," she admitted simply, "to talk about being thin-skinned!"
"I knew as much!"
"Why do you say that?"
"I could see it from the first. You've got courage, and you're shrewd, and you know the world—and you've got what's worth all the rest put together. I mean that you're a fine-looking woman, and you've never let the fact spoil you!"
There was no mistaking the pregnancy of the glance and question which she next directed toward him.
"Then why couldn't you take me in with you?" she asked, with a quiet-toned solemnity.
She had the sensations of a skater on treacherously thin ice, as she watched the slow, cautious scrutiny of his unbetraying face. But now, for some reason, she knew neither fear nor hesitation.
"And what if we did?" he parried temporizingly.