Another little interval of silence, and at its end: “What will you do, Harry?”
“I can’t do anything; he made that perfectly plain. The most I could get out of him was a promise that he wouldn’t try to break with me. It is just as you said Saturday at luncheon: he isn’t going to let anybody help him.”
“No; I knew he wouldn’t. But you must try to keep hold of him.”
“You may be sure I shall do that. You know how much I owe to him—and to you.”
“You don’t owe me anything at all.”
“Oh, yes, I do. Philip has told me, you know.”
“What did he tell you?”
“That you were the one who prompted him to take me with him on the prospecting trip a year ago. I was a down-and-out at that time; he knew it and you knew it.”
She looked up with the light in the dark eyes that he was never quite able to read or to fathom.
“We were both right: you have proved it. Philip said to me once that whatever you had done, you had kept your soul clean.”