“Surely, surely, you don’t think I would intentionally mislead you?”
“When a woman wants a man to dress or act or talk different, she generally cares some.”
“And I do ‘care some’!” Dora cried impulsively. “I believe that you are not making the best of yourself, of your life; that you are better than your surroundings; and because I do believe in you, I want to help you. Don’t you understand?”
Her explanation was not convincing to Smith.
“Is it because I don’t talk grammar, and you think you’d have to live in a log-house and hang out your own wash?”
Dora considered.
“Even if I cared for you, those things would have weight,” she answered truthfully. “I am content out here now, and like it because it is novel and I know it is temporary; but if I were asked to live here always, as you suggest, in a log-house and hang out my own wash, I should have to care a great deal.”
“It’s because I haven’t a stake, then,” he said bitterly.
“No, not because you haven’t a stake. I merely say that extreme poverty would be an objection.”
“But if I should get the dinero—me, Smith—plenty of it? Tell me,” he demanded fiercely—“it’s the time to talk now—is there any one else? It’s me for the devil straight if you throw me! You’d better take this gun here, plant it on my heart, and pull the trigger. Because if I live—I’m talkin’ straight—what I have done will be just a kid’s play to what I’ll do, if I ever cut loose for fair. Don’t throw me, girl! Give me a show—if there ain’t any one else! If there is, I’m quittin’ the flat to-day.”