"Please," he insisted.
"I would have taken it before," she said, forcing back her tears. "But not now."
"You must," he declared. "My money is no use to me. I can't do anything worth doing with it. With all my fantastic extravagancies, I only spend a small part of my income. The rest has been accumulating for years. I shall never use it, and when I die it will pass to some one I have never seen. It is doing no good—and I want it to do some good. What better thing could I do with it than give it ... to the woman I would marry if I could?"
She sprang up.
"For God's sake," she cried, "don't say that! I can't bear it!"
He laid a hand again on her shoulder.
"Do you care?" he asked slowly. "I don't think you cared before. I thought you were only sorry for me now. Do you really care?"
"I do care!" she cried recklessly. "I care—and care—and care. My God, how I care!"
He turned his face upwards, and over it passed a dreadful, mocking smile.