"I'm not—half good enough. My life has always been lived at loose ends. Nothing bad, but a thousand things that you wouldn't—like to hear—I'm not a golden girl—I'm a gilded one——"
"Why should you tell me things like that? I don't believe it."
"Please believe it," she said earnestly, "don't whitewash things. Just let me begin again—loving you——"
Her voice broke. He drew himself up, and took her in his arms. "My dear girl," he said, "my dear girl——"
"I never met a man like you, I never believed there were—such men——" He felt her tears against his hand.
"Listen," he said quietly; "let me tell you something of my life." He told her the things he had told Randy. Of the little wife he had not loved. "Perhaps if it had not been for her, I should not have had the courage to offer to you my—maimed—self. When I married her I was strong and young and had wealth to give her. Yet I did not give her love. And love is more than all the rest. I have that to give you—you know it."
"Yes."
"I have some money. I don't think it is going to count much with either of us. What will count is the way we plan our future. I have a big old ranch,
and we'll live in it—with the dairy and the wide kitchen that you've talked about—and you won't have to wait for another world, dearest, to get your heart's desire——"