"Plainly, Murkard, what is your object in telling me that you heard it?"
"Because I want to save you. That is why!"
"How can that save me? You mean because you want to damn me, body and soul. But you shan't! by God, you shan't! I'm desperate, I tell you that, desperate!"
"Hush, hush! She'll hear you if you shout like that. Come back and let us talk quietly. Good Heavens, Ellison, can't you see how great my love for you is? Haven't I shown it to you times out of number? Do you think, then, that I should turn on you in your hour of need? Surely you know me better than that?"
Ellison regarded him in silence for a minute. Then he went across and held out his hand.
"Forgive me, Silas. I am not myself to-night; I hardly know what I say. You don't know how much I have upon my mind. Don't you see how everything seems to be coming to a climax with me? But for her sake, and that of the child that is coming, I would willingly be dead. And yet I can't alarm her, and I can't let anything happen that would deprive her of a home—now. At any cost I must keep a roof over her head."
He went back to his seat by the counter and sat staring before him with a face drawn and haggard almost out of recognition.
"I am trying to save both for you," said Murkard quietly.
Ellison seized at the hope as a drowning man would catch at a life-buoy.
"I know you are, Murkard. I know it, and trust you to the bottom of my heart. What are you thinking of? What can I do? For mercy's sake, tell me; don't wait to weigh words."