"I'm going to ask you still another favor," she said.
Bud returned her look with a bitter smile.
"What is it?"
"You have learned about this—this land matter and—"
"Oh, yes! I can guess. You want me to keep quiet about it—to hush it up," a shade of scorn in his tone.
"I only asked this so that you would not disgrace me," she pleaded.
Disillusioned at last, robbed of his lifelong optimism, shorn of his ideals, even his love—for he began to despise this beautiful, misguided woman—Haines sat broken in spirit, thinking how quickly the brightness of life fades to blackness.
"Very well," he said sadly. "I suppose you are innocent. I'll save you. If they're all—your father, too—crooked, why shouldn't I be crooked? All right; I won't say anything."
"I only ask you not to disgrace me," pleaded the girl. "You will promise that?"
"It's a promise."