(Gloomily.) I'm afraid so.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
I—I thought at one time it might be because—(looking slyly at him) because I had lost all my money.
TED MORRIS.
(Turning suddenly mid eagerly.) Lost all your money?
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(Looking carefully away.) Yes. I thought somebody might have told you—people are so fond of telling bad news—and that you didn't care to have anything more to do with me after that. Of course, when people have lost all their money they can't expect people to be so nice as—as they were before.
TED MORRIS.
(Who has stood rooted to the ground.) Then that was what that letter was about. It came just at that very time. And—and you have been thinking that of me! (Rushes across and kneels down beside her, and takes her hands.) Miss Deane—Primrose—let me work for you. Let me take care of you all your life. I can do it now. I feel like a new man. I can face the whole College of Surgeons and the world too, and lick them both. (His manner grows more and more enthusiastic and joyous.)