"What does my life amount to? Think how little it means. A few more
weeks of waiting. Then the suffering: then the release. You heard Dr.
Smith. You know. You understand. Didn't you understand?"
"Yes," she breathed.
"Then you must see what a splendid way out this is for me. No more
waiting. No pain. Death never came to any one so kindly before. It's my
chance, if only you'll make it worth while. Will you?" he pleaded.
"Oh, the wonder of it!" she whispered, gazing on him with parted lips.
But he did not understand, yet. He pressed what he thought to be his
advantage.
"Here," he cried, suddenly dropping her hands and catching up the bills
from the valise. "Here's safety. Here's life. For you and your sister,
both. You spoke of Providence a moment ago. Here's Providence for you!
Quick! Take it."
"What is it?" she asked, drawing away as he sought to thrust the money
into her hands.
"Twenty thousand dollars. More. It doesn't matter. It's life for both of
you. Have you the right to refuse it? Take it and go."
She let the bank-notes fall from her hands unnoticed.
"Do you think I would leave you _now_?" she cried in a voice of thrilled
music. "Even if they weren't sure to trace me, as they would be."
This last she uttered as an unimportant matter dismissed with
indifference.
"There will be nothing to trace.
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