She sat looking at him.
"Well?"
She roused herself. "You never see anybody change so—right in a minute, that way.... I do wish you could have seen her!" She gave a pitying glance at the handsome figure on the pillow.... "It seems a pity, 'most, to do so much for everybody and not have the good of seeing it!"
"How do you know I will pay the bill?" asked the millionaire grimly.
She turned and stared—and a little gleaming smile twinkled at him. "Why—you have paid already! Leastways, your lawyer's paid. He sends a check every week—the way you told him—to pay the bill; and I've made it out big enough for two, right along." Her face was complacent and kind.
"Do you call that business?" He asked it almost sharply.
"No—not business—just good sense, I guess—and decency."
"I call it crooked dealing!" said the millionaire. Something of the old, gripping look came into the shapely hands lying on the bed.
Aunt Jane surveyed him and rocked on. "How much do you reckon your life is worth, Mr. Medfield?" she said after a little pause.