Ruth’s eyes were dancing.
“Kirk, dear, I’ve something to tell you. Wait till we get outside.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ll soon see?”
They went out into the street. Against the kerb a large red automobile was standing. The chauffeur touched his cap as he saw them. Kirk stared at him dumbly.
“In you get, dear,” said Ruth.
She met his astonished gaze with a smile of triumph. This was her moment, the moment for which she had been waiting. The chauffeur started the machine.
“I don’t understand. Whose car is this?”
“Mine. Yours. Ours. Oh, Kirk, darling, I was so afraid that you would come back bulging with a fortune that would make my little one look like nothing. But you haven’t, you haven’t, and it’s just splendid.” She caught his hand and pressed it. “It’s simply sweet of you to look so astonished. I was hoping you would. This car belongs to us, and there’s another just as big besides, and a house, and—oh—everything you can think of. Kirk, dear, we’ve nothing to worry us any longer. We’re rich!”