“Yes,” and she colored like a girl, “you know that I trust you.”
“I know it, but I have sworn to myself, dear, to risk nothing.”
She rose slowly and put the money away, glad in her heart of his quiet and determined strength.
“I understand—”
“That I mean to crush this curse now—once—and forever.”
Murchison finished his pipe, and Catherine put her work away. The front door was locked, the gas turned out. Husband and wife went up the stairs together, Catherine carrying the lighted candle. She opened a door leading from the narrow landing, and they went in, hand in hand, to look at their two children who were asleep.
A wistful smile hovered about Murchison’s mouth.
“Poor little beggars, they don’t see much of me!”
He was thinking of the past and of the future. Indeed, he thought the same thoughts nightly as he looked at the two heads upon the pillows.
“Gwen is looking better again.”