"Did he say I wanted anything?"
"He said you hadn't asked for anything. That's what leaves us so much in the dark."
"Isn't it conceivable—" he began, with a slightly puzzled air.
"Not that it matters," she interrupted, hurriedly. "Of course, if we had anything with which to compensate you—anything adequate, that is—I don't say that we shouldn't consider seriously the suggestion you were good enough to make. But we haven't. As I understand it, we haven't anything at all. That settles the question definitely. I hope you see."
"Isn't it conceivable," he persisted, "that a man might like to do a thing, once in a way, without—"
"Without asking for an equivalent in return? Possibly. But in this case it would only make it harder for me."
"How so?"
"By putting me under an overwhelming obligation to a total stranger—an obligation that I couldn't bear, while still less could I do away with it."
"I don't see," he reasoned, "that you'd be under a greater obligation to me in that case than you are to others already."
"At present," she corrected, "we're not under an obligation to any one. My father and I are contending with circumstances; we're not asking favors of individuals. I know we owe money—a great deal of money—to a good many people—"