"Then we must start from the very bottom?"
"From the very bottom. Nothing that you are likely to imagine can be worse than the facts—and I've brought you to it."
Something that was like a sob burst from me, and turning away, I flung myself into the chair on the hearth-rug.
"Can't you think of anything that would be worse?" she asked quietly.
I shook my head, "The worst thing about it is that I've brought you to it."
"Wouldn't it be worse," she went on in the same level voice, "if you had lost me?"
"Lost you!" I cried, and my arms were open at the thought.
"I'm glad, I'm glad." With the words she was on her knees at my side, and her mouth touched my cheek. "I knew it wasn't the worst, Ben,—I knew you'd rather give up the money than give up me. Ah, can't you see—can't you see, that the worst can't come to us while we are still together?"
Leaning over her, I gathered her to me with a hunger for comfort, kissing her eyes, her mouth, her throat, and the loosened braid on her bosom.
"Oh, you witch, you've almost made me happy!" I said.