“No—hardly—” he smiled.
“I’m glad of that. This house oppresses me. It’s so big—so silent and yet so noisy with the money that has been spent on it. I don’t like money, Phil.”
“That’s because you’ve never felt the need of it. I’m glad you don’t, though. You know I’m not very well off.”
“I don’t suppose Daddy would ever let me starve,” she laughed.
His expression changed and he chose his words deliberately, his face turned toward the fire.
“It isn’t my intention to place you in any such position,” he said with curious precision. “I don’t think you understand. It isn’t possible for me to accept anything from your father, except yourself, Jane. I’ll take you empty-handed as I first found you—or not at all.”
“But even then you know it was my saucepan——”
But he shook his head. “It isn’t a question of saucepans now.”
“You’re not fair, Phil,” she murmured soberly. “Is it my fault that father has become what he is? Why shouldn’t I help? I have something of my own—some stock in——”
He closed her lips with a kiss.