“I say, you’ve been bad, you know!”
“But I’m getting better.”
“You’re—you’re so white and thin!”
He spoke in an awed voice, his glance fixed on one of her hands that rested on the arm of her chair.
“I wanted to have a talk, you know. But I shall tire you.”
“No.”
She heard him draw a big breath.
“Look here, I’m a fool at expressing myself, but you’ve been having a bad time. I mean, as to the money. Beastly thing money. I’ve guessed that. Seems impertinent of me, but, by George! well, I can’t help it. It’s upset me, seeing you like this. It’s made me start saying something I didn’t mean to mention.”
He was out of breath, and sat watching her for one dumb, inarticulate moment, his hands clenched between his knees.
“Look here, you may think me a fool, but I tell you one thing, I can’t stand the thought of a girl like you having to scrape and scramble. I can’t stand it. And I shouldn’t have had the cheek, but for feeling like this. I’ll just blurt it out. I’ve been thinking of it for weeks. Look here, let me take care of you—for life, I mean. I’m not a bad sort, and I don’t think I shall be a selfish beast of a husband. There’s nothing I won’t do to make you happy.”