"Besides," he resumed, "when everybody doubted me, you showed your
confidence. You wrote and said----"
"But you told me you tore up the letter," Clare interrupted.
Dick got confused. "I did; I was a fool, but the way things had been
going was too much for me. You ought to understand and try to make
allowances."
"I cannot understand why you want to marry a girl you think a thief."
Pulling himself together, Dick gave her a steady look. "I can't let that
pass, though if I begin to argue I'm lost. In a way, I'm at your mercy,
because my defense can only make matters worse. But I tried to explain on
board the launch."
"The explanation wasn't very convincing," Clare remarked, turning her
head. "Do you still believe I took your papers?"
"The plans were in my pocket when I reached your house," said Dick, who
saw he must be frank. "I don't know that you took them, and if you did, I
wouldn't hold you responsible; but they were taken."
"You mean that you blame my father for their loss?"
Dick hesitated. He felt that she was giving him a last opportunity, but
he could not seize it.
"If I pretended I didn't blame him, you would find me out and it would
stand between us. I wish I could say I'd dropped the papers somewhere or
find some other way; but the truth is best."
Clare turned to him with a hot flush and an angry sparkle in her eyes.
"Then it's unthinkable that you should marry the daughter of the man whom
you believe ruined you. Don't you see that you can't separate me from my
father? We must stand together."
"No," said Dick doggedly, knowing that he was beaten, "I don't see that.
I want you; I want to take you away from surroundings and associations
that must jar. Perhaps it was foolish to think you would come, but you
helped to save my life when I was ill, and I believe I was then something
more to you than a patient. Why have you changed?"
She looked at him with a forced and rather bitter smile. "Need you ask?
Can't you, or won't you, understand? Could I marry my victim, which is
what you are if your suspicions are justified? If they are not, you have
offered me an insult I cannot forgive. It is unbearable to be thought the
daughter of a thief."
Dick nerved himself for a last effort. "What does your father's character
matter? I want you. You will be safe from everything that could hurt you
if you come to me." He hesitated and then went on in a hoarse, determined
voice: "You must come. I can't let you live among those plotters and
gamblers. It's impossible. Clare, when I was ill and you thought me
asleep, I watched you sitting in the moonlight. Your face was wonderfully
gentle and I thought----"