"Enough till I earn something," Hilliard answered with a smile.
"Then I should think there's no doubt."
"The question is this—are you perfectly willing to go back to Birmingham?"
"I'm anxious to go."
"You feel quite restored to health?"
"I was never so well in my life."
Hilliard looked into her face, and could easily believe that she spoke the truth. His memory would no longer recall the photograph in Mrs. Brewer's album; the living Eve, with her progressive changes of countenance, had obliterated that pale image of her bygone self. He saw her now as a beautiful woman, mysterious to him still in many respects, yet familiar as though they had been friends for years.
"Then, whatever life is before me," he said. "I shall have done one thing that is worth doing."
"Perhaps—if everyone's life is worth saving," Eve answered in a voice just audible.
"Everyone's is not; but yours was."