"Yes, yes!" The girl took her in her arms and tried to still the ceaseless trembling which shook the mother's frame, while her own tears fell unheeded.
"We must go! Now!"
"Yes, dearest! But where?"
"You—love me still?" asked Gloria. "I suppose you need me, too, don't you? I hadn't thought of that."
"Every hour!" The round young arms pressed her closer. "You won't think of—of leaving me."
Mrs. Gerard shook her head slowly. "No! I suppose that must be part of the price. But—Penniless! Friendless! Where can we go?"
"Mr. O'Neil—my Irish Prince," faltered the daughter through her tears. "Perhaps he would take us in."
"Omar Khayyam," said Eliza Appleton, entering O'Neil's office briskly, "you are the general trouble man, so prepare to listen to mine."
"Won't the kitchen flue draw, or has a hinge come off the bungalow door?" Murray smiled. He was harassed by endless worries, a dozen pressing matters called for his instant attention; yet he showed no trace of annoyance. "If so, I'll be right up and fix it."
"The kitchen chimney has a draught that threatens to draw Dan's salary out with the smoke every time I cook a meal, and the house is dandy. This is a real man's-size tribulation, so of course I run to you. Simon Legree is at his tricks again."