. I asked her
all right."

Fanny's fingers, locked rigidly in her lap, did not quiver. Her blue
eyes were wide and strange, but she tried to smile.

His voice, harsh and hesitating, went on: "She refused me, of course.
She had known all along what I was. She said she did not love me;
that I did not love her--which was God's truth. I wanted to atone.
You see that, don't you?"

He looked at Fanny and started.

"My God, Fanny!" he cried. "I have made you suffer too!"

"Never mind me."

"Fanny, can you love me and be my wife after all this?"

"I am a woman," said Fanny. Her eyes blazed angrily at him. Then she
laughed and put up her mouth to be kissed.

"Men will make fools of women till the Day of Judgment," said she,
and laughed again.

Chapter XXIV

When the afternoon mail came in that day, Mr. Henry Daggett retired
behind his official barrier according to his wont, leaving the store
in charge of Joe Whittle, the Deacon's son. It had been diligently
pointed out to Joe by his thrifty parents that all rich men began
life by sweeping out stores and other menial tasks, and for some time
Joe had been working for Mr. Daggett with doubtful alacrity.

Joe liked the store. There was a large stock of candy, dried fruit,
crackers and pickles; Joe was a hungry boy, and Mr. Daggett had told
him he could eat what he wished. He was an easy-going man with no
children of his own, and he took great delight in pampering the
Deacon's son. "I told him he could eat candy and things, and he
looked tickled to death," he told his wife.

"He'll get his stomach upset," objected Mrs. Daggett.

"He can't eat the whole stock," said Daggett, "and upsetting a boy's
stomach is not much of an upset anyway. It don't take long to right
it."

Once in a while Daggett would suggest to Joe that if he were in his
place he wouldn't eat too much of that green candy. He supposed it
was pure; he didn't mean to sell any but pure candy if he knew it,
but it might be just as well for him to go slow. Generally he took a
paternal delight in watching the growing boy eat his stock in trade.

That afternoon Joe was working on a species of hard sweet which
distended his cheeks, and nearly deprived him temporarily of the
power of speech, while the people seeking their mail came in. There
was never much custom while mail-sorting was going on, and Joe sucked
blissfully.

Then Jim Dodge entered and spoke to him. "Hullo, Joe," he said.

Joe nodded