“Because he was sick, and I was worried about him. I hadn’t heard a word from him for three days. I knew nothing about the money until that awful night when the lawyer came.”
“And you took it! In spite of all—you took it. You accepted this man’s money!”
“Donald—I couldn’t help it—I was afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
“Afraid to refuse it, for fear you would not understand—for fear you would suspect—and think terrible things about me.”
“For fear I might find out the truth,” he flung at her angrily. “For fear you would not be able to hoodwink me, as you had in the past. For fear I might know how disloyal and unfaithful and untrue you had been to me.”
His words, and the way he spoke them, roused in her a sudden anger. “Yes, if you wish to put it that way,” she cried defiantly. “For fear you would no longer love me, when I had come to know that your love was the only thing I wanted in all the world.”
“And to keep my love,” he exclaimed bitterly, “you were willing to stoop to that—to accept this man’s money.”
“Oh—my dear—my dear! I didn’t want his money—I didn’t want it! Won’t you believe me?”