Nothing. What is there to do?"
"Then why reveal this knowledge?" he demanded harshly. "Why drag out
the old skeleton and rattle it for no purpose? Or have you some
purpose?"
Myra sat down on a fallen tree. She drew the folds of a heavy brown
coat closer about her and looked at him steadily.
"No," she replied. "I can't say that I have any definite purpose
except--that I want to talk to you. And it seemed that I could talk to
you better if we stopped pretending. We can't alter facts by
pretending they don't exist, can we?"
"I don't attempt to alter them," he said. "I accept them and let it go
at that. Why don't you?"
"I do," she assured him, "but when I find myself compelled to accept
your money to pay for the ordinary necessaries of living, I feel
myself being put in an intolerable position. I suppose you won't
understand that. I imagine you think of me as a selfish little beast
who has no scruples about anything. But I'm not quite like that. It
galls me to have Jim borrow from you. He may intend to pay it back.
But he won't; it will somehow never be quite convenient.
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