"Mary—why do you bring up these cars again when I'm trying my best to show you my whole heart? Don't put things like that between us!"
"But they are between us, Henry, all the time. I hear you tell me you love me, and I don't doubt you do in a way; yes, as well as you can, very much indeed!—I know. But when it comes to this car question; when I talk to you of these juggernauts of yours; you are no more willing to do the right thing than you were when I first knew you."
Mr. Cortlandt's face hardened. He drew himself up from the eager position in which he had leaned forward, and evidently hesitated for a moment as to his words.
In spite of his love for this woman, who, as he justly said, was far more beautiful and winsome than the strong, angular, over-conscientious girl he had married, neglected and shamed, his feelings as a business man were strong within him.
"My dear—I am not personally responsible for the condition of these cars."
"You are President of the Company. You hold controlling shares of the stock. It was your vote that turned down the last improvement proposition."
He looked at her sharply.
"I'm afraid someone has been prejudicing you against me Mary. You have more technical information than seems likely to have reached you by accident."
"It's not prejudice, but it is information; and Mr. Graham did tell me, if that's what you mean. But he cares. You know how hard the Settlement has worked to get the Company to make the streets safer for children—and you wouldn't do a thing."
Mr. Cortlandt hesitated. It would never do to pile business details on his suit for a love once lost and not yet regained.