"How can you say that? and say it so—so—"
Indignant tears stood in her upturned eyes, and she took her hands off his arm.
"Surely you know it's true."
"I only know that he's still alive, and that I love him."
They walked on—they were nearly at the door.
"You know how he suffers," began Gano.
"Everybody suffers," she interrupted. "He knows nothing about the worst pain. And he has his art; he has you to care about him, and—he has me. Oh, Mr. Gano"—she turned on him suddenly—"help me to take care of him—help me, for God's sake—help me to keep him in the world!"
"Yes, yes; I give you my word."
A great weight was lifted off them both. They went up-stairs together, but Gano left Mary at Driscoll's door. He wrote some letters in his own room, then he went softly up-stairs, heard the low, pleasant sound of voices, and came down without interrupting them. He went to bed, and slept soundly till the morning.
"I shall cable Bostwick & Allen first thing after breakfast," he said to himself.