"Heaven forbid! Boy, I must save you. I must, for the honour of the old name that's never been tarnished. I must make you come home with me."
He put both hands on my shoulders, looking commandingly into my face.
"No, no," I said, "I'll never leave her."
"It will be all right. We can pay her. It can be arranged. Think of the honour of the old name, lad."
I shook him off. "Pay!"—I laughed ironically. "Pay" in connection with the name of Berna—again I laughed.
"She's good," I said once again. "Wait a little till you know her. Don't judge her yet. Wait a little."
He saw it was of no use to waste further words on me. He sighed.
"Well, well," he said, "have it your own way. I think she's ruining you. She's dragging you down, sapping your moral principles, lowering your standard of pure living. She must be bad, bad, or she wouldn't live with you like that. But have it your own way, boy; I'll wait and see."