Bulstrode interrupted:
"Indeed, Mr. Gregs, you should, you know!—you should thank me; come, be generous."
Dan relaxed his grim humor a little.
"When I get through with this South African business I'm going back to Centreville, and if I ever get her out of this Paris she'll never see it again!"
"Dan," she breathed, "I don't want to. Centreville is good enough for me."
(Centreville! The horrible environment he was to have snatched her from. Bulstrode smiled softly.)
"But this money," pursued the dogged lover, returning to his grudge. "You've got to take it back, Mr. Bulstrode. No picture on earth is worth a thousand dollars, and certainly not Laura's."
"Oh, Dan!" she exclaimed.
But her friend said firmly: "The portrait is mine. Come, don't be foolish. If Miss Desprey is willing to marry you and go out to Idaho, take the money and buy her some pretty clothes and things."
Here the girl herself interrupted excitedly: