"Wouldn't you like this kind of thing, as well?" Vane asked. "Of course, I mean what it implies—the power to take life easy and get as much enjoyment as possible out of it. It wouldn't be difficult, if you'd only take what I'd be glad to give you." He indicated the languid figures in the foreground. "You could, for instance, spend your time among people of this sort. After all, it's what you were meant to do."
"Would that appeal to you?"
"Oh, I like it in the meantime," he evaded.
"Well," Lucy returned curtly, "I believe I'm more at home with the other kind of people—those in poverty, squalor and ignorance. I've an idea that they have a stronger claim on me; but that's not a point I can urge. The fact is, I've chosen my career, and there are practical reasons why I shouldn't abandon it. I had a good deal of trouble in getting a footing, and if I fell out now, it would be harder still to take my place in the ranks again."
"But you wouldn't require to do so."
"I can't be sure. I don't want to hurt you; but, after all, your success was sudden, and one understands that it isn't wise to depend on an income derived from mining properties."
Vane frowned.
"None of you ever did believe in me!"
"I suppose there's some truth in that. You really did give us trouble, you know. Somehow, you were different—you wouldn't fit in; though I believe the same thing applied to me, for that matter."
"And now you don't expect my prosperity to last?"