She was pale as those words left her lips. Hollister had proposed to her a terrible possibility.
"Yes, Claire, I mean it. Of course I am looking at the worst that might happen. But I want to prepare you."
She rose, keeping her eyes on his. "I don't know what I should do," she said, "if I lost what I have now. I have grown used to it, Herbert. I won't let myself think that it might pass away—that I should be left without all these good and precious things."
As she spoke the last words he rose also, and caught both her hands, looking eagerly into her face.
"Claire," he exclaimed, "you must think of losing it all! You must try to reconcile yourself with the idea! If you don't, the ordeal will be all the harder when it comes."
"When it comes?" she again repeated.
"Yes—you see just how I stand. You have grasped the whole wretched situation. Of course there's a chance that I may right myself, but" ...
"I'll take that chance," she broke in, quite forcibly withdrawing her hands. "So will you, Herbert. I prefer to look at it this way. We will both take the chance."
Hollister's face was full of reproach.
"Claire!" he exclaimed. "I see that you love this new life with a positive passion!"