"Say we've equal rights in it. Still you needn't
worry about my not getting my share of the benefits."
"You _are_ content with it, aren't you? Like this? I haven't--cheated?
Used you? It's easy for a woman to do that, I think. It isn't ...?" She
asked that last question by taking her hand off his shoulder.
"No, put it back," he said. "It's all right." He smoked in silence for a
minute; then went on. "Why, 'content' is hardly the word for it. When I
think what it was I wanted and what you've given me instead ...! It
wasn't self-denial or any other high moral principle that kept me from
flaring up when you took hold of me just now. It's because I've got a
better thing. Something I wouldn't trade for all the love in the world.
'Content'!"
"I'd like to believe it was a better thing," she said; "but I'm afraid I
can't."
"Neither could I when I was--how old are you?--twenty-four. Perhaps when
you're fifty-one you can."
"I suppose so," she said absently. "Perhaps if it were a question of
choosing between a love that hadn't any friendship in it and a
friendship .
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