Lorelei's smile was bitter. "Jim was never sorry for anybody except himself. My family hate you just as your family hate me, and they'd like to separate us."
"Say, that's pretty rotten!" Bob exclaimed. "If he weren't your brother
I'd—"
Lorelei laughed mirthlessly. "Go ahead! I wish you would. It might clear the atmosphere."
"Then I will." After a moment he continued, "I suppose you feel you must go on supporting them?"
"Of course."
"Just as you feel you must support me. Is it entirely duty in my case?"
Seeing her hesitate, he insisted, "Isn't there any love at all?"
"I'm afraid not, Bob."
The man pondered silently. "I suppose if I were the right sort," he said, at length, with some difficulty, "I'd let you go under these circumstances. Well, I'm not the right sort; I'm not big or noble. I'm just an ordinary, medium-sized man, and I'm going to keep you. However, I'm through side-stepping; I've tried to outrun the Barleycorn Brothers, but it's no use, so I'm going to turn and face them. If they lick me I'll go under. But if I go under I'll take you with me. I won't give you up. I won't!"
"I sha'n't let you pull me down," she told him, soberly.
"Then you'll have to bear me up. When a man's drowning he grabs and holds on. That's me! There's nothing fine about me, understand? I'm human and selfish. I'd be happy in hell with you."