"You can't help my thinking of giving them to you," she interrupted.
"For you don't even know what they are," Fox continued. "I didn't mean to tell you yet, but I have to." And he told her what he wanted to do; but only a part. It is to be noted that he said nothing about gynesauruses and coal-trees.
When he had finished Sally sighed. "It's too bad that I can't give them to you, Fox. I think it would be a very good way; an excellent way."
"Excellent?" he asked.
"Yes, excellent," Sally answered, looking at him and smiling in her amused way. "Why isn't it?"
"Nonsense! It's absurd; preposterous. It's positively shocking. Sally, I'm surprised at you."
Sally shook her head. "No," she said obstinately, "it's an excellent way to do. You can't say why it isn't. Why, just think, then I should feel that I could come there when I am old or when I break down from overwork. Teachers are apt to break down, I understand, and now, when they do, there seems to be no course open to them but to hire a hearse—if they've saved money enough. Think how much easier I should feel in my mind if Sanderson's Retreat were open to me." And Sally chuckled at the thought.
"But Sanderson's Retreat would be open to you in any case," Fox protested. "You would not have to hire a hearse. It is my business to prevent such excursions. Have I ever failed you, Sally?"
"Oh, Fox, never." There were tears in her eyes as she got up quickly and almost ran to him. "Never, never, Fox. That is why, don't you see? I want to do something for you, Fox. You have done so much for me—for us."
He was standing by the fire. As she came, he held out his hands and she gave him both of hers. Ah! Doctor Sanderson, you are in danger of forgetting your resolution; that resolution which you thought was so wise. In truth, the words trembled on the tip of his tongue. But Sally's "for us" brought him to his senses.