"Ain't I good enough to even loan you money?" she cried fiercely.
The shaft of moonlight had poured past her feet; she stood in a pool of it.
"Good enough?" said Terry. "Good enough?" Something that had been accumulating in him now swelled to bursting, flooded from his heart to his throat. He hardly knew his own voice, it was so transformed with sudden emotion.
"There's more good in you than in any man or woman I've ever known."
"Terry, are you trying to make me feel foolish?"
"I mean it—and it's true. You're kinder, more gentle—"
"Gentle? Me? Oh, Terry!"
But she sat down on the bed, and she listened to him with her face raised, as though music were falling on her, a thing barely heard at a perilous distance.
"They've told you other things, but they don't know. I know, Kate. The moment I saw you I knew, and it stopped my heart for a beat—the knowing of it. That you're beautiful—and true as steel; that you're worthy of honor—and that I honor you with all my heart. That I love your kindness, your frankness, your beautiful willingness to help people, Kate. I've lived with a woman who taught me what was true. You've taught me what's glorious and worth living for. Do you understand, Kate?"
And no answer; but a change in her face that stopped him.