She answered his question sullenly with a shrug of her shoulders.
“No, no.”
“But Nellie—oh, Nellie, Nellie—poor little girl, don’t you see that—that—”
“What?” she asked, for even she, indifferent as she was, could not fail to see that the man was shaken by strong emotion. “I ‘m all right.”
“All right, with a devil like that after you, a brute who—Nellie, Nellie, for God’s sake give me the right to take care of you.”
She looked at him stupidly and then a light dawned on her.
“Do you mean Jim?” she said. “Why, Jim—” and for a moment a tender smile broke about her lips, and a light was in her eyes such as would never be there for the man beside her.
“Oh, Nellie,” he groaned, “am I too late after all? I only want to take care of you, Nellie—only to take care of you.”
He stepped forward and caught her hands, holding them fiercely as Jim Newton himself might have done.
“Nellie, if you won’t let me do anything else, let me help you; for your own sake let me help you.”