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“
No
,
not
you
:
I
like
you
.
It
’
s
the
money
!
With
me
that
’
s
always
the
root
of
the
matter
.
I
could
never
yet
afford
a
treat
in
my
life
!
”
“
Is
that
all
?
”
He
laughed
,
relieved
by
her
naturalness
.
“
Look
here
;
since
we
’
re
talking
as
man
to
man
—
can
’
t
you
trust
me
about
that
too
?
”
“
Trust
you
?
How
do
you
mean
?
You
’
d
better
not
trust
me
!
”
she
laughed
back
sharply
.
“
I
might
never
be
able
to
pay
up
!
”
His
gesture
brushed
aside
the
allusion
.
“
Money
may
be
the
root
of
the
matter
;
it
can
’
t
be
the
whole
of
it
,
between
friends
.
Don
’
t
you
think
one
friend
may
accept
a
small
service
from
another
without
looking
too
far
ahead
or
weighing
too
many
chances
?
The
question
turns
entirely
on
what
you
think
of
me
.
If
you
like
me
well
enough
to
be
willing
to
take
a
few
days
’
holiday
with
me
,
just
for
the
pleasure
of
the
thing
,
and
the
pleasure
you
’
ll
be
giving
me
,
let
’
s
shake
hands
on
it
.
If
you
don
’
t
like
me
well
enough
we
’
ll
shake
hands
too
;
only
I
shall
be
sorry
,
”
he
ended
.
“
Oh
,
but
I
shall
be
sorry
too
!
”
Her
face
,
as
she
lifted
it
to
his
,
looked
so
small
and
young
that
Darrow
felt
a
fugitive
twinge
of
compunction
,
instantly
effaced
by
the
excitement
of
pursuit
.
“
Well
,
then
?
”
He
stood
looking
down
on
her
,
his
eyes
persuading
her
.
He
was
now
intensely
aware
that
his
nearness
was
having
an
effect
which
made
it
less
and
less
necessary
for
him
to
choose
his
words
,
and
he
went
on
,
more
mindful
of
the
inflections
of
his
voice
than
of
what
he
was
actually
saying
:
“
Why
on
earth
should
we
say
good
-
bye
if
we
’
re
both
sorry
to
?
Won
’
t
you
tell
me
your
reason
?
It
’
s
not
a
bit
like
you
to
let
anything
stand
in
the
way
of
your
saying
just
what
you
feel
.
You
mustn
’
t
mind
offending
me
,
you
know
!
”
She
hung
before
him
like
a
leaf
on
the
meeting
of
cross
-
currents
,
that
the
next
ripple
may
sweep
forward
or
whirl
back
.
Then
she
flung
up
her
head
with
the
odd
boyish
movement
habitual
to
her
in
moments
of
excitement
.
“
What
I
feel
?
Do
you
want
to
know
what
I
feel
?
That
you
’
re
giving
me
the
only
chance
I
’
ve
ever
had
!
”
She
turned
about
on
her
heel
and
,
dropping
into
the
nearest
chair
,
sank
forward
,
her
face
hidden
against
the
dressing
-
table
.
Under
the
folds
of
her
thin
summer
dress
the
modelling
of
her
back
and
of
her
lifted
arms
,
and
the
slight
hollow
between
her
shoulder
-
blades
,
recalled
the
faint
curves
of
a
terra
-
cotta
statuette
,
some
young
image
of
grace
hardly
more
than
sketched
in
the
clay
.
Darrow
,
as
he
stood
looking
at
her
,
reflected
that
her
character
,
for
all
its
seeming
firmness
,
its
flashing
edges
of
“
opinion
”
,
was
probably
no
less
immature
.
He
had
not
expected
her
to
yield
so
suddenly
to
his
suggestion
,
or
to
confess
her
yielding
in
that
way
.
At
first
he
was
slightly
disconcerted
;
then
he
saw
how
her
attitude
simplified
his
own
.
Her
behaviour
had
all
the
indecision
and
awkwardness
of
inexperience
