"Every cent of it. Why, what else could I do? They actually have nothing, and must get back to Denver or starve."
For an instant he completely lost his self-control.
"Why did n't you tell me first?" he asked sharply. "Did you suppose I collected my own money, and could therefore meet your expenses?"
He never forgot the expression which swept instantly into her face—the quick indignation that leaped from the depths of those dark eyes.
"I was not aware I had ever requested any help from Mr. Winston," she returned clearly, her slight form held erect. "Your following after Albrecht was entirely voluntary, but I naturally presumed the money you brought back belonged to me. You said it did, and hence I supposed it could be disposed of at my own discretion."
"You have exhibited none."
"That would seem to depend entirely upon the point of view. Until I request your aid, however, your criticism is not desired."
Both voice and manner were so cold that they were equivalent to dismissal, but Winston hesitated, already beginning to regret the bitter harshness of his speech. Beneath his steady gaze her cheeks flamed hotly.
"We have been friends," he began more humbly. "Would you mind telling me something regarding your plans? Just now I feel unable to offer you either aid or advice."
Her face perceptibly brightened, as if this new mood quickly appealed to her.