"
"You'll suffer the most awful privations. You know why he
took so long to get well. He was half starved."
"I can earn money for him."
"How?"
"I don't know. I shall find a way."
A horrible thought passed through the Dutchman's mind,
and he shuddered.
"I think you must be mad. I don't know what has come over you."
She shrugged her shoulders.
"Now may I go?"
"Wait one second longer."
He looked round his studio wearily; he had loved it because
her presence had made it gay and homelike; he shut his eyes
for an instant; then he gave her a long look as though to
impress on his mind the picture of her. He got up and took
his hat.
"No; I'll go."
"You?"
She was startled. She did not know what he meant.
"I can't bear to think of you living in that horrible, filthy
attic. After all, this is your home just as much as mine.
You'll be comfortable here. You'll be spared at least the
worst privations."
He went to the drawer in which he kept his money and took out
several bank-notes.
"I would like to give you half what I've got here."
He put them on the table.
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