Diane spooned warm apple-rhubarb pie onto the girl’s plates, topping each with scoops of ice cream. "Hoity-toity! You owe me sixteen thousand dollars. “No,” she said, under her breath, “you can’t face it. “I know. " "Be silent dog," cried Jonathan. The thought did not occur to her, for all thought had flown out of her head. Somebody to whom she would be necessary, who for days would have to depend upon her for the needs of life. “Yet it is my last evening, and I think —if you are sure that you would like to have me—that I will risk it. I have heard of you from my husband. .
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