She had been very open with him,--acknowledging the depth of her love for him; telling him that he was now all in all to her; that life without his love would be impossible to her: and in a certain way he took advantage of these strong avowals, treating her as though she were a creature utterly in his power;--as indeed she was.
On that evening he said no more of Johnny Eames, but said much of the difficulty of a man establishing himself with a wife in London, who had nothing but his own moderate income on which to rely.

He did not in so many words tell her that if her friends could make up for her two or three thousand pounds,--that being much less than he had expected when he first made his offer,--this terrible difficulty would be removed; but he said enough to make her understand that the world would call him very imprudent in taking a girl who had nothing.
And as he spoke of these things, Lily remaining for the most part silent as he did so, it occurred to him that he might talk to her freely of his past life,--more freely than he would have done had he feared that he might lose her by any such disclosures.

He had no fear of losing her.

Alas! might it not be possible that he had some such hope! He told her that his past life had been expensive; that, though he was not in debt, he had lived up to every shilling that he had, and that he had contracted habits of expenditure which it would be almost impossible for him to lay aside at a day's notice.

Then he spoke of entanglements, meaning, as he did so, to explain more fully what were their nature,--but not daring to do so when he found that Lily was altogether in the dark as to what he meant.