"Two pounds ten altogether. It isn't dear, but people won't buy it, all the same."
"Yes, it's got up well," he said, taking it from the desk and turning the leaves. "How many volumes, did you say?"
"Four."
She made a little tentative movement to recover it, but he went on as if the gesture had escaped him.
"If it's not too late I'll change my mind and subscribe for a copy. Put my name down, please, will you?"
She clasped her hands tightly in her lap.
"No," she said, "thank you, I'd rather not."
"Why?"
"You don't want the book, I know you don't. You've fed me and done enough for me already; I won't take your money too; I can't!"
Her bosom began to swell tempestuously. He saw by the widened eyes fixed upon the fire that she was struggling not to cry again.