'Do you take me for a thief?' he exclaimed. 'Are you afraid to touch my
gold--that gold for which men and women sell their souls, blast their
lives with shame, and pain, and dishonour, all the world over? Do you
stand aloof from it--refuse to touch it, as if it were infected? And
you, too, girl! Have you no sense? Are you an idiot?'
'I can do nothing against my husband's wish,' Mary answered, quietly;
'and, indeed, there is no need for us to take your money. We are rich
without it. Please leave that chest to a hospital. It will be ever so
much better than giving it to us.'
'You told me you were going to marry a poor man?'
'I know. But he cheated me, and turned out to be a rich man. He was a
horrid impostor,' said Mary, drawing closer to her husband, and smiling
up at him.
The old man flung down the lid of his strong box, which shut with a
sonorous clang. He locked it, and put the key in his pocket.
'I have done with you.' he said. 'You can go your ways, both of you.
Fools, fools, fools! The world is peopled with rogues and fools; and, by
heaven, I would rather have to do with the rogues!'
He flung himself into an arm-chair, one of the few objects of furniture
in the room, and left them to find their way back alone.
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