“That’s one of the things. Not a lot—not even very much. But enough,” said Kate Cookham.
“Enough? I should think so!” he again couldn’t help a bit crudely exhaling.
“Enough for what I wanted. I don’t always live like this—not at all. But I came to the best hotel on purpose. I wanted to show you I could. Now,” she asked, “do you understand?”
“Understand?” He only gaped.
She threw up her loosed arms, which dropped again beside her. “I did it for you—I did it for you!”
“‘For’ me——?”
“What I did—what I did here of old.”
He stared, trying to see it. “When you made me pay you?”
“The Two Hundred and Seventy—all I could get from you, as you reminded me yesterday, so that I had to give up the rest It was my idea,” she went on—“it was my idea.”
“To bleed me quite to death?” Oh, his ice was broken now!