"You mean, to go away?" he asked, with a little shrug of his shoulder.
She nodded her head.

He was depressed: he had had a hemorrhage that morning, and the road
seemed to close in on him on all sides.

"How are we to live?" he asked, with a pitiful sort of smile.

She looked up at him steadily for a moment, without speaking. He did not
understand the look in her eyes, until she said:

"You have that five thousand dollars!"

He drew back a step from her, and met her unwavering look a little
fearfully. She knew that--she--! "When did you find it out?" he asked.

"The morning we were married," she replied.

"And you--you, Christine, you married me, a thief!" She nodded again.

"What difference could it make?" she asked. "I wouldn't have been happy
if I hadn't married you. And I loved you!"

"Look here, Christine," he said, "that five thousand dollars is not for
you or for me. You will be safe enough if anything should happen to me;
your people would look after you, and you have some money in your own
right. But I've a sister, and she's lame. She never had to do a stroke
of work in her life, and she can't do it now. I have shared with her
anything I have had since times went wrong with us and our family. I