She grew a
little paler, putting her hand beneath her lover's bearded chin, and
holding his face up so that she could look straight into his fearless,
honest eyes.
"Dear John," she said, wistfully, "you know I never have a secret of my
own that I keep from you in all the world."
"But why," demanded he, "can it do any harm for you to give me some
reason why you ever thought of telling me this; and just at a time,
too, when we were talking of business."
"Because," she answered, thoughtlessly, "it was about business."
A new light came into Stanton's face. His lips subtly changed their
expression.
"It must have been a chance to make some money," he said.
She grew deadly pale, but she did not answer him. He searched her face
an instant, and then he lifted her in his strong arms, rising from the
chair, and seating her in his place. He took a step forward, and
stretched out his hand to take the paper she had thrown upon the table.
With a cry of terror she sprang up and caught his arm.
"John!" she exclaimed. "Oh, for pity's sake, don't look at it."
He turned and regarded her with a more unkind glance than she had ever
seen upon his face.
"Will you tell me?" he asked.
"I can't, I can't!" she answered, half sobbing.
He looked at the paper, and then at his sweetheart. Then with a rough
motion he shook off her fingers from his arm, and without a word went
abruptly from the room.
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