It's religion, of course." She suddenly seemed to see in his eyes some terror or despair, as though he knew that he was going to drop "this time"-- farther than ever before.
She caught his arm.

"Uncle Mathew, what are you going to do?
Where will you live?
Take my three hundred pounds if it will help you.

I don't want it just now.

Keep it for me." He had a moment of resolute, clear-sighted honesty.

"No, my dear, if I had it it would go in a week.