Now it had to come; the money business, that I had shrunk from mentioning when I told her of my talk with Crocker.
I hesitated, then blurted it out—
“He must pay you a reasonable sum to cover that expense.”
“Oh—Anthony!” Her eyes flashed fire. “I won't touch a cent of his money!”
“But—but—”
“Not one cent!”
Somehow I felt very sordidly masculine as I stood there trying to explain. I gave her the reasons, as I had thought them out—that it was mere justice to recompense her for the time he had forced her to lose.
But my voice began to falter, as I ran on with the jargon; for I saw that she was not listening. She had become very white. She leaned against the casement, all limp and sad, gazing out over the roofs. Her breath was coming more quickly. And I saw her draw her under lip in a little way between her teeth.
My voice trailed off into silence. For I suddenly knew that she was thinking of her own utter helplessness. And as the fact tortured her nne, free spirit, so also it tortured mine. I reached my hand toward hers; then, since she did not see, withdrew it. There could be no help for either of us in that contact—nothing but a deeper confusion. Then I turned and walked away across the room, and sat gloomily on the edge of the bed.
We must have remained silent for several minutes. It seemed an hour to me, as I sat there, brooding, and struggling against the tendency to brood.