Here it is--and
they's just a mite more to help you on your way."
She laid the little handful of gold on the table beside the bed and rose.
"Don't go," said Terry, when he could speak. "Don't go, Kate! I'm not
that low. I can't take your money!"
She stood by the bed and stamped lightly. "Are you going to be a fool
about this, too?"
"Your father offered to give me back all the money I'd won. I can't do
it, Kate."
He could see her grow angry, beautifully angry.
"Is they no difference between Kate Pollard and Joe Pollard?"
Something leaped into his throat. He wanted to tell her in a thousand
ways just how vast that difference was.
"Man, you'd make a saint swear, and I ain't a saint by some miles. You
take that money and pay Dad, and get on your way. This ain't no place for
you, Terry Hollis."
"I--" he began.
She broke in: "Don't say it. You'll have me mad in a minute. Don't say
it."
"I have to. I can't take money from you."
"Then take a loan."
He shook his head.
"Ain't I good enough to even loan you money?" she cried fiercely.
The shaft of moonlight had poured past her feet; she stood in a pool of
it.
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