The blue eyes dilated widely.
“You embraced a literary career,” she said.
“Yes, but it was for bread, not for fame.”
“But you are rich.”
“I have earned it all by my pen,” he answered; and again the violet eyes dilated widely.
“I did not know that—I thought you were always rich—that is, the Hintons said your wife was wealthy.”
It was the first time her pure young lips had ever referred to the wicked woman who had wrecked his life. She saw a burning flush creep up to his forehead, then fade into pallor.
“Oh, forgive me, I—I—spoke thoughtlessly,” faltered the girl.
“It does not matter. They told you the truth. I married a rich woman, but when we parted, her money went with her. I had to work for my mother.”
“And for me,” she said, very softly.