"And suppose," says she, "that you don't come back, and nobody shows up, and the money goes?"
"Well," said I, "we've got to take some chances in this world."
"We have," said she. "And now look here--I don't know how much of it's wanting and how much of it's fear--but if you'll take chances I will."
She turned as red as a beet and looked away.
"In words of two syllables," said I, "what do you mean?"
"I mean," she said--and she was still as red as a beet, but this time she looked me in my eyes without a flinch in hers--"that if you're dead sure you want me--are you?--if you're dead sure, why, I'll take chances on my wanting you. I believe every word you've said to me. Is that right?"
Then we looked at each other for a long time.
"What a lot we'll have to tell each other," she said, "before we're really acquainted. But you're sure? You're quite sure?"
"Sure that I want you? Yes," I said; "not sure that you ought not to wait and think me over."
"You've begun," she said, "with everything that's noble and generous. I could never look myself in the face again if I felt called upon to begin by being mean."
"Hadn't you better think it over?" I said. "Hadn't you?"
"If an angel with wings had come with gifts," she said, "would I have thought them over? And just because your wings don't show----"
"It isn't fair," I mumbled. "I give you a choice between the streets and me and you feel forced to choose me."
But she pulled my head down and gave me a quick, fierce kiss.
"There," said she--"was that forced? Did you force me to do that? No," she said; "you needn't think you're the only person in the world that wants another person.... If you go to Australia I don't wait here. I go too. If you sink by the way, I sink. And don't you go to thinking you've made me a one-sided bargain.... I can cook for you and mend for you and save for you. And if you're sick I can nurse you. And I can black your boots."
"I thought," said I, "that you were just a little girl that I wanted, but you turn out to be the whole world that I've got to have. Slip the rest of your canvas on and I'll hook it up for you. Then we'll find some one to marry us--'nless you'd rather wait."
"Wait?" said she, turning her back and standing still, which most women haven't sense enough to do when a man's ten thumbs are trying to hook them up. "I've been waiting all my life for this--and you!"