“Don’t!” he said suddenly. “Please don’t, little Edith! I don’t need much taking care of. It’s you! Do you mind telling me what—how you—how it is with you financially?”
She did tell him, readily and frankly, and he was appalled. She was supporting herself and her aunt on her meager salary. Two persons entirely dependent on this slip of a girl!
“Edith!” he said. “Won’t you marry me now? My salary’s enough for us to scrape along on.”
Both her hands clasped his now.
“Joe, my own dearest, I can’t!”
“We can take your aunt to live with us for a while, until I’ve got my raise.”
“Joe, we can’t!”
“I don’t care how bad she is. If you can stand her, I can.”
“You couldn’t! Don’t you see, Joe, that that would spoil everything? We couldn’t start like that. But if you’d—”
“If I’d what?”