Clearwater watched them with awe. It was the first time in all his life that he had ever seen love—the reality of love. And the sight was so overpowering that it overwhelmed his emotions of terror and rage and hate. When he finally spoke it was with a kind of hysteria:
“My God, Eleanor! If your dead mother could have known that her daughter——”
Helm put his arm round his wife and interrupted sternly:
“If her dead mother could have seen you at your deviltry through that corporation—could have seen the starving wretches in your lumber camps—the blighted children toiling in your mines, the blood and filth on your dividend dollars, every one of them!”
“He lies, Eleanor!” cried her father. “He is a half-crazed crank——”
“He is my husband, father,” interrupted Eleanor. And very proud she looked as she said it.
“You will do nothing to help me!” cried her father, in a sudden agony of fear.
Eleanor was about to reply. Helm shook his head, led her gently toward the door. He said:
“Leave us alone, please.”
“Eleanor,” shrieked her father, “if you yield to this man, if you give up your father to be destroyed by him, I shall disinherit you, I shall curse you. I shall curse you. I shall curse you!”