Children of the rich -- Fiction; England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction
"If ever I come to any good, which isn't very probable, you'll hear
from me; you'll never hear from me if I don't; so I'm afraid that this
is going to be very near a case of farewell for ever."
"You say two hundred pounds will get you out of that mess you're in?"
"About that; I dare say I could manage with less if it was ready
money. But what's the use of talking? I don't propose to rob a bank,
and that's the only way I ever could get it."
"And if you had fifteen hundred to offer Mr. Dawson, what then?"
"What then? Elaine, you're hard on me."
"How hard? I don't mean to be."
"To dangle before my face the things which I most want when you know
they're not for me! Why, if I had fifteen hundred pounds, and could go
to Dawson with a really serious proposition, the world would become
another place; I should see my way to some sort of a career. I'd begin
by earning a decent living; in no time I'd be getting together a home;
in a year we might be married."
"A year? That's a long time."
He laughed.
"If I were Dawson's partner, with a really substantial share, we might
be married right away."
"How soon, from now?"
"Elaine, what are you driving at? what is the use of our deceiving
ourselves? I shall become Dawson's partner when pigs have wings, not
before. What I have to do is bolt, while there still is time."
There was an interval of silence. They were standing very close
together; but he kept his hands in his jacket pockets, as if he were
resolved that he would not take her in his arms; while she stood, with
downcast eyes, picking at the hem of her dress. When she spoke again
it was almost in a whisper.
"Suppose I were able to find you the money?"
He smiled a smile of utter incredulity, as if her words were not worth
considering.
"Suppose you were able to buy me the earth? Yesterday you told me that
you had not enough money to buy yourself a pair of shoes; in fact, you
said that your whole worldly wealth was represented by less than five
shillings."
Once more she was still--oddly still.
"Herbert!"
The name was rather sighed than spoken. He saw that she was trembling.
The appeal was irresistible. Again he put his arms about her and held
her fast.
"Little lady, you've troubles enough of your own without worrying
yourself about mine. You'll easily find better men than I am who'll be
glad enough to worship the ground on which you stand, and then you'll
recognize how much you owe me for running away, and leaving you an
open field. The best thing that can happen to you is that I should
go."
"I don't think so. I--I don't want you to go."
There was a catching in her breath.
"I don't want to go, but--I might find it awkward if I stayed."
"Herbert, I--I want to tell you something."
"What is it? By the sound of you it must be something very
tremendous."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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