“How?” he asked.
“Don’t do anything so mad, so rash. You always had such a queer, troublesome sort of conscience. Phil, I cannot stand poverty, I cannot stand being dragged down; I must have this place; I have set my heart on it.”
He came up to her and took both her hands.
“Is it worth evil?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Is anything under the sun worth evil?” She made no answer. He dropped her hands and left the room.