"It's sure
sweeter than the chink of millions."
All this she ignored.
"It's madness. You don't know what you are doing--"
"Oh, yes, I do," he assured her. "I'm winning the dearest wish
of my heart. Why, your little finger is worth more--"
"Do be sensible for a moment."
"I was never more sensible in my lie. I know what I want, and
I'm going to get it. I want you and the open air. I want to get
my foot off the paving-stones and my ear away from the telephone.
I want a little ranch-house in one of the prettiest bits of
country God ever made, and I want to do the chores around that
ranch-house--milk cows, and chop wood, and curry horses, and
plough the ground, and all the rest of it; and I want you there
in the ranch-house with me. I'm plumb tired of everything else,
and clean wore out. And I'm sure the luckiest man alive, for
I've got what money can't buy. I've got you, and thirty millions
couldn't buy you, nor three thousand millions, nor thirty cents--"
A knock at the door interrupted him, and he was left to stare
delightedly at the Crouched Venus and on around the room at
Dede's dainty possessions, while she answered the telephone.
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