“Look here. I noticed that you didn’t say that the other thing was—impossible! Marrying me?” “Yes—that is impossible, too,” said the girl. “Oh!” “What?” For his tone was sinister. “I’ll become a sot again.” “The doctor says that with that wound in your head it will kill you!” Ravant laughed—the brutal laugh once more. “Well, let it. You can’t open the gate of paradise and let me get one glimpse and then shut it in my face. I’ll go back to my own little paradise.” He was laughing. But she caught the note of hopelessness under it. “Do you mean to say that if I marry you—” “I will be good.” “Understand that I do not love you! Not at all!” “No one does. Marry me anyhow. Marry me to get rid of me. If you fall in love with some one else, it is off.” The girl sobbed. She was on her knees at his bed. He did not like this. “Never mind—never mind—child. I only thought we could make it less expensive to the old man in that way. I could then stop your wages, and we would not need a chaperon. And I really fancied that this thing inside of me which yearns for you—can’t wait till the night is over and you and morning come—is love. But I don’t know what the thing is—I never had the symptoms before—speak to the doctor about it—tell him I have ceased to be a pig. But, perhaps _you_ know. Do you? Were you ever in love?” “No, sir,” answered the nurse. “Stop crying!” thundered Ravant. “Yes, sir,” said the little nurse. V A FOOL AND HIS MONEY “Well, thank God,” Ravant said, later on, “that you didn’t refuse me because you didn’t know me. I can’t fancy a better way of finding a man out than being his nurse. But I may not always be a brute. So, remember that I want to marry you, and, when you don’t think me too much of a brute think sometimes about marrying me—you may get used to it!” “Yes, sir,” said the nurse. “How much money have I?” “About four dollars, sir.” “I don’t blame you now. I thought there was at least ten in my clothes. Four dollars is mighty little to begin housekeeping upon. Keep it for me, will you, until the last cent of the gentleman who did not know it was loaded is gone.” Later: “You might as well come and help to spend the old man’s money. We will travel in private cars. Two maids for you, two valets for me. Our pictures in the newspapers. A retinue to smile welcome to us at each city. Another to weep as we depart. We shall leave a trail of American gold in our wake across Europe!” He had caught her interest. Only he thought it was something which she said it was not. “Look here. You do like me a little. I have seen you watch me while I pretended to sleep. And I’ll try to learn what love is and to make you love me. I think I can.” The girl looked down. “Look here, I was a gentleman and a lawyer before I was a drunkard, and I can be again, if any one cares to have me be. Please marry me!” “I don’t love you,” said the girl again, with her head still down.