What you do not know"-- a queer note of triumph stealing into his tone "is that I am a wealthy man." She raised her eyebrows.
"I imagined," she remarked, "that all Labour leaders were like the Apostles--took no thought for such things." "One must always keep one's eye on the main chance; Miss Abbeway," he protested, "or how would things be when one came to think of marriage, for instance ?" "Where did your money come from ?" she asked bluntly.
Her question was framed simply to direct him from a repulsive subject.
His embarrassment, however, afforded her food for future thought.
"I have saved money all my life," he confided eagerly.

"An uncle left me a little.

Lately I have speculated--successfully.

I don't want to dwell on this.

I only wanted you to understand that if I chose I could cut a very different figure--that my wife wouldn't have to live in a suburb." "I really do not see," was the cold response, "how this concerns me in the least." "You, call yourself a Socialist, don't you, Miss Abbeway ?" he demanded.
"You're not allowing the fact that you're an aristocrat and that I am a self-made man to weigh with you ?" "The accident of birth counts for nothing," she replied, "you must know that those are my principles--but it sometimes happens that birth and environment give one tastes which it is impossible to ignore.