"Yes. It's true. I think he's pretty happy to get all that off his conscience. You're a rich girl, Beth." And then, with a slow smile, "That was one of the reasons why I wanted to talk with you about who I was. You see, I thought that now that you're going to have all this money, you might want to change your mind about marrying a forester chap who—who just wants to try to show the trees how to grow."
"Peter! Don't make fun of me. Please. And you hurt me so!" she reproached him. "You know I'll never want to change my mind ever, ever—even if I had all the money in the world."
He laughed, drew her face down to his and whispered, "Beth, dear. I knew you wouldn't want to—but I just wanted to hear you say it."
"Well, I have said it. And I don't want you ever to say such a thing again. As if I cared for anythin'—anythin' but you."
He kissed her on the lips and she straightened.
"I wanted to hear you say that too," he said with a laugh.
And then, after a silence which they both improved by gazing at each other mutely, "But you don't seem very curious about who I am."
Beth pressed his fingers confidently. What he was to her mattered a great deal—and she realized that nothing else did. But she knew that something was required of her. And so, "Oh, yes. Indeed I am, Peter,—awfully curious," she said politely.
"Well, you know, Beth, I'm not really so poor as I seem to be. I've got a lot of securities in a bank in Russia, because nobody knew where they were and so they couldn't take them."
"And they would have taken your money too?"