He went on filling his pipe. "Anything special you need one for?" he asked quietly.
"You're a good friend," she said.
She gave a ragged little laugh. "I guess not. Just somebody strong and steady to hold on to like this."
"Well," he said very deliberately, "you want to realize this: You say I'm a friend and I am, but if there is anything in this friendship which can be of use to you you're entitled to it; to everything there is in it. Because you made it."
"One person can't make a friendship," she said. "Even two people can't. It's got to—grow out of them somehow."
He assented with a nod. "But in this case who gave it a chance to grow? Where would it have been if I'd had my way? If you hadn't pulled me up and set me straight?"
"For that matter," she said, "where would it have been if I had had mine? If I'd run away and tried for a fresh start, as I'd have done if you hadn't set me right?"
"Make it so," he said. "Say we've equal rights in it. Still you needn't worry about my not getting my share of the benefits."