"I don't feel quite so eager for a career as I did."
"Well, we'll see," he said. "That light of yours shouldn't be hidden
under a bushel. And still, I don't like the idea of you being away from
me, which a career implies."
He put the check back in the envelope, smiling oddly to himself, and
tucked it back in her bosom. She caught and pressed his hand there,
against the soft flesh.
"Won't you use it, Jack?" she pleaded. "Won't it help? Don't let any
silly pride influence you. There mustn't ever be anything like that
between us again."
"There won't be," he smiled. "Frankly, if I need it, I'll use it. But
that's a matter there's plenty of time to decide. You see, although
technically I may be broke, I'm a long way from the end of my tether. I
think I'll have my working outfit clear, and the country's full of
timber. I've got a standing in the business that neither fire nor
anything else can destroy. No, I haven't any false pride about the
money, dear. But the money part of our future is a detail. With the
incentive I've got now to work and plan, it won't take me five years to
be a bigger toad in the timber puddle than I ever was. You don't know
what a dynamo I am when I get going."
"I don't doubt that," she said proudly. "But the money's yours, if you
need it."
"I need something else a good deal more right now," he laughed. "That's
something to eat. Aren't you hungry, Stella? Wouldn't you like a cup of
coffee?"
"I'm famished," she admitted--the literal truth.
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