"I can do without it, too."
"Whereas," she persisted, "if I were to let you do this I should be robbing you of the essence of what you are."
He drew back slightly. "You mean that your Yankee is a strong man, while I'm—"
"I don't mean anything invidious or unkind. But isn't it self-evident, or nearly, that we're individuals, while you're parts of an intricate social system? The minute you fall out of your place in the system you come to grief; but vicissitudes don't affect us much more than a change of coats."
"I don't care a button for my place in the system."
"But I do. I care for it for you. I should have married you and shared it if I could. But I'd rather not marry you than that you should lose it."
"That is," he said, coldly, "you'd rather use his money than—"
She withdrew her hands, her brows contracting and her eyes clouding in her effort to make him understand the position from her point of view. "You see, it's this way. For one thing, we've taken the money already. That's past. We may have taken it temporarily, or for good and all, as things turn out; but in any case it's done. And yet even if it weren't done it would be easier for us to draw on him rather than on you, because he's one of ourselves."
"One of yourselves? I thought that's just what he wasn't. I thought he was a jolly outsider."
"You mean socially. But that again hasn't much significance in a country where socially we're all of one class. Where there's only one class there can't be any outsiders."