The trouble was not so bad, then. She nestled closer.
"What is it, John dear?" she cooed, quite confident of her ability to slay dragons so long as he talked in that strain.
He trembled a little, so overpowering was the bitter-sweet sense of her nearness.
"It is rather horrible that you and I should have to discuss dollars and cents," he said, speaking with the slow distinctness of a man pronouncing his own death-sentence, "but your father taunted me with the fact that you are very wealthy. Is that true?"
"Of course it is."
She affected to treat the matter seriously. It was rather delicious to find her lover distressing himself about money, if that was all.
"What is your income?" he demanded curtly.
"I am quite rich. I am worth about half a million dollars a year."
He groaned, and shrank away from her.
"Why did you not tell me that sooner?" he said, almost with a scowl.