“Why not? One must amuse one’s self.”
“Not so. Please promise that you will try some safer way? This is not—honest.” She hesitated over the last word, for his tone had been short and sharp, but uttered it bravely, and stole an arm about his neck, mutely asking pardon for the speech which cost her so much.
“What is? Life is all a lottery, and one must keep trying one’s luck while the wheel goes round; for prizes are few and blanks many, you know.”
“Ah, do not speak in that reckless way. Forgive me for asking questions; but you are all I have, and I must take care of you, since no one else has the right.”
“Or the will. Ask what you please. I will tell you any thing, my visible conscience;” and Canaris took her in the circle of his arm, subdued by the courageous tenderness that made her what he called her.
“Is that all yours?” she whispered, pointing a small forefinger rather sternly at the money before him, and sweetening the question with a kiss.
“No, it is yours, every penny of it. Put it in the little drawer, and make merry with it, else I shall be sorry I won it for you.”
“That I cannot do. Please do not ask me. There is always enough in the little drawer for me, and I like better to use the money you have earned.”
“Say, rather, the salary which you earn and I spend. It is all wrong, Gladys; but I cannot help it!” and Canaris pushed away his winnings, as if he despised them and himself.
“It is my fault that you did this, because I begged you not to let Mr. Helwyze give me so much. I can take any thing from you, for I love you, but not from him; so you try to make me think you have enough to gratify my every wish. Is not that true?”