“It is clear and frosty, a beautiful night,” he hastened to say. “May I help you with your coat?”
So presently Winton had his heart's desire, which was to be alone with Virginia.
She nerved herself for the plunge,—her uncle's plunge.
“Your part in the building of this other railroad is purely a business affair, is it not?”
“My personal interest? Quite so; a mere matter of dollars and cents, you may say.”
“If you should have another offer, from some other company—”
“That is not your argument; it is Mr. Darrah's. You know well enough what is involved: honor, integrity, good faith, everything a man values, or should value. I can't believe you would ask such a sacrifice of me—of any man.
“Indeed, I do not ask it, Mr. Winton. But it is only fair that you should have your warning. My uncle will leave no stone unturned to defeat you.”
He was still looking into her eyes, and so had courage to say what came uppermost.
“I don't care: I shall fight him as hard as I can, but I shall always be his debtor for this evening. Do you understand?”