"No! No! Not for anything!"
"I've lent him money before--"
"But he'd never forgive Polly. He--he's one of those men who make an
awful fuss on the first of every month when his wife's bills come in."
"There must be a bass chorus on the first of every month in San
Francisco--"
"Oh, please don't jest. She must have this money."
"She may have it--on those terms. I'll have no business dealings with
women of the Polly Roberts sort. That would be the last I'd ever see of
the twenty thousand--"
"I never thought you were stingy!"
Ruyler, in spite of his tearing anxiety, laughed outright. "Is that your
idea of how the indulgent American husband becomes rich?"
"Oh--of course I wouldn't have you lose such a sum. I really have learned
the value of money in the abstract, although I can't care for it as much
as men do."
"I have no great love of money, but there is a certain difference between
a miser and a levelheaded business man--"
"Price, I must have that money. Polly--oh, I am afraid she will
kill herself!"
"Not she. A more selfish little beast never breathed. She'll squeeze the
money out of some one, never fear! But I think I'll lock up your jewels
in case you are tempted to raise money on them for her--Darling!"
Helene, without a sound, had fainted.