“As I did my mother, yes. There is not a trace in my heart of the thing he calls love.” “You have been stunted, warped, and the fountains of life never have opened. It will come with right conditions of living.” “Do you think so?” “I know so. At least there is no one else you love, Ruth?” “No one except you.” “And do you feel about me just as you do him?” “No! It is different. What I owe him is for myself. What I owe you is for my mother. You saw! You know! You understand what you did for her, and what it meant to me. The Harvester must be the finest man on earth, but when I try to think of either God or Heaven, your face intervenes.” “That's all right, Ruth, I'm so glad you told me,” said Doctor Harmon. “I can make it all perfectly clear to you. You just go on and worship me all you please. It's bound to make a cleaner, better man of me. What you feel for me will hold me to a higher moral level all my life than I ever have known before; but never forget that you are not going to live in Heaven. You will be here at least sixty years yet, so when you come to think of selecting a partner for the relations of the world, you stick to the finest man on earth; see?” “I do!” said the Girl. “I saw you kiss Molly a week ago. She is lovely, and I hope you will be perfectly happy. It won't interfere with my worshipping you; not the least in the world. Go ahead and be joyful!” The doctor sprang to his feet in crimson confusion. The Girl lay and laughed at him. “Don't!” she cried. “It's all right! It takes a weight off my soul as heavy as a mountain. I do adore you, as I said. But every hour since I left Chicago a big, black cloud has hung over me. I didn't feel free. I didn't feel absolved. I felt that my obligations to you were so heavy that when I had settled the last of the money debt I was in honour bound----” “Don't, Ruth! Forget those dreadful times, as I told you then! Think only of a happy future!” “Let me finish,” said the Girl. “Let me get this out of my system with the other poison. From the day I came here, I've whispered in my heart, 'I am not free!' But if you love another woman! If you are going to take her to your heart and to your lips, why that is my release. Oh Man, speak the words! Tell me I am free indeed!” “Ruth, be quiet, for mercy sake! You'll raise a temperature, and the Harvester will pitch me into the lake. You are free, child, of course! You always have been. I understood the awful pressure that was on you with the very first glimpse I had of your mother. Who was she, Ruth?” “She never would tell me.” “She thought you would appeal to her people?” “She knew I would! I couldn't have helped it.” “Would you like to know?” “I never want to. It is too late. I infinitely prefer to remain in ignorance. Talk of something else.” “Let me read a wonderful book I found on the Harvester's shelves.”