g
to do with it. They know you haven't got five thousand a year, and if
she has--why, there'll be the solid cash to convince them. The whole
thing will be a pill for them; but if it's gilded--"

Claude's knees were drawn up in the bed, his hands clasped about them.
Thor noticed the strangeness of his expression, but he was unprepared
for his words when they came out. "Say, Thor, you're _not_ in love with
her yourself, are you?"

Owing to what he believed to be the perfection of his acting, it was the
question Thor had least expected to be called on to answer. He knew he
was turning white or green, and that his smile when he forced it was
nothing but a ghastly movement of the mouth. It was his turn to gain
time, but he could think of nothing more forcible than, "What makes you
ask me that?"

"Because it looks so funny--so damned funny."

"There's nothing funny in my trying to give a lift to my own brother, is
there?"

"N-no; perhaps not. But, see here, Thor--" He leaned forward. "You're
not in love with her, are you?"

Thor knew the supreme moment of his life had come, that he should never
reach another like it. It was within his power to seize the cup and
drain it--or thrust it aside. Of all temptations he had ever had to meet
none had been so strong as this. It was the stronger for his knowing
that if it was conquered now it would probably never return. He would
have put himself beyond reach of its returning. That in itself appalled
him. There was some joy in feeling the temptation there, as a thing to
be dallied with. He dallied with it now. He dallied with it to the
extent of saying, with a smile he tried to temper to playfulness:

"Well, what if I was in love with her?"

Something about Claude leaped into flame. "Then I wouldn't touch a cent
of your money. I wouldn't let her touch it. I wouldn't let her look at
it. I'd marry her on my own--I'll be hanged if I wouldn't. I'd marry her
to-morrow. I'd get out of bed and marry her to-night. I'd--"

Thor forced his smile to a tenderer playfulness, sitting calmly astride
of his chair, his left arm along the back, his right hand holding his
pipe by the bowl. "So you wouldn't let me have her?"

Claude lashed across the bed. "I'd see you hanged first. I'd see you
damned. I'd see you damned to hell. She's mine, I tell you. I'm not
going to give her up to any one--and to you least of all. Do you get
that? Now you know."

"All right, Claude. Now I know."

"Yes, b