What is to become of her?"
Blanche turned toward him with a wondrous look--a look which made him
shiver with emotion. He looked down a moment, and his struggle to speak
made him seem very boyish and gentle.
"I can't exactly justify this trade, Jim, but I guess it all depends on
the _mother_. She ought to be happy anyway, whether you are or not; so
if she thinks she'd better go with you, why, I ain't got a word to
say."
Blanche gave a low cry, a cry such as no woman had ever uttered in his
presence, and fell upon her knees before him.
The cadence of her moan cut deep into his heart. He realized for the
first time some part of her suffering, her temptations. Her eyes shone
with a marvellous beauty. He was awed by the rapt expression of her
face.
"Don't do that," he stammered. "Please get up."
"You're so good!" she breathed.
"Oh no, I'm not. I don't know--I don't pretend to judge--that's all.
Yesterday I did, but now--well, I leave the whole business with you and
God. Please stand up."
She rose, but stood looking upon him with a fixed, devouring look.
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