"I do not mind, most times," she said gently, as in answer to my action. "It is easier to bear than some things of life."
"Shame!" I muttered.
"But there are days," she burst out more like her old self, "when I simply cannot stand it! But let us not waste these precious minutes with my troubles. Let us talk of you. You are still young in spite of—"
"The gray hair and the two hundred and forty pounds? I don't feel so young as I might, Jane!"
She colored at the sound of her name.
"But you have got much for your gray hairs—you have lived more than most men!"
"Tell me," I demanded suddenly,—"I know it was your hand that pulled me from the last hole. It was your money that Carboner risked? I knew it. Old Carboner wouldn't tell, but I knew it!"
"And you were on the point of refusing my help," she added with an accusing smile. "I should have scorned you, if you had gone away without it!"
"Oh, I didn't hesitate long! And I am glad now it was yours, in more ways than one," I added quickly. "It was a profitable deal,—Carboner wrote you the terms?"
"Yes, but it would have made no difference if it had come out badly—you can't know what it meant to me to do that! To work with you with all my strength! It was the first real joy I ever got from my money, and perhaps the last, too. For you are beyond my help now."