She closed her streaming eyes, clutching at his sleeve in a state beyond her control. "Won't you please? Please!"
He toed the carpet.
"I—I'd sooner be hit in the face, Millie, than—have this happen. Swear I would! But you see for yourself we—we can't go on this way."
She sat for a moment, her stare widening above the palm clapped tightly against her mouth.
"Then you mean, Harry, you want—you want a—a—"
"Now, now, Millie, try to keep hold of yourself. You're a sensible woman. You know I'll do the right thing by you to any amount. You'll have the boy till he's of age, and after that, too, just as much as you want him. He'll live right here in the flat with you. Money's no object, the way I'm going to fix things. Why, Millie, compared to how things are now—you're going to be a hundred per cent, better off—without me."
She fell to rocking herself in the straight chair.
"Oh, my God! Oh, my God!"
"Now, Millie, don't take it that way. I know that nine men out of ten would call me crazy to—to let go of a woman like you. But what's the use trying to keep life in something that's dead? It's because you're too good for me, Millie. I know that. You know that it's not because I think any less of you, or that I've forgot it was you who gave me my start. I'd pay you back ten times more if I could. I'm going to settle on you and the boy so that you're fixed for life. When he's of age, he comes into the firm half interest. There won't even be no publicity the way I'm going to fix things. Money talks, Millie. You'll get your decree without having to show your face to the public."
"O God—he's got it all fixed—he's talked it all over with her! She—"