The disappointment was too much for him." "But--didn't he LOVE her ?" Lydia Herbert put the question almost imperatively.
Mr.Sam Gwent raised his eyebrows quizzically.

"I guess you came out of the Middle Ages!" he observed--"What's 'love'?
Did you ever know a woman with millions of money who got 'loved'?
Not a bit of it! Her MONEY is loved--but not herself.

She's the encumbrance to the cash." "Then--then--you mean to tell me Jack was only after the money-- ?" "What else should he be after?
The woman?
There are thousands of women,--all to be had for the asking--they pitch themselves at men headlong--no hesitation or modesty about them nowadays! Jack's asking would never have been refused by any one of them.

But the millions of Morgana Royal are not to be got every day!" Miss Herbert's rather thin lips tightened into a close line,--she flicked some light tear-drops away from her eyes with a handkerchief as fine as a cobweb delicately perfumed, and stood silently looking out on the view from the verandah.
"You see," pursued Gwent, in his cold, deliberate accents, "Jack was ruined financially.

And he has all but ruined ME.