“PHIL. …”
“I’m sorry, Hulda. When I came here an hour ago from the Hospital, you were resting, Bristol said, and I knew Edith Dunning was with you, and Hendrik. … I didn’t want to disturb you. And I had to go. Some business at the office—very urgent business. … But now I’m here, Hulda, and—Hulda—”
“I’m so tired.”
“I know, dear, I know. Hulda—how can I say it?—Hulda, I …”
“Phil. Please.”
“I don’t know what to say, or how to say it. Dearest. That means something, doesn’t it? Darling. You know how I feel. Toward you. But the world—the newspapers—you know too what they’d say if you—if we …”
“Phil! Do you think that would make any difference to me?”
“They’d say I was marrying Abby Doorn’s millions!”
“I don’t want to discuss marriage. Oh, how can you even think …”
“But, Hulda. Hulda! Oh, darling. I’m a beast to make you cry. …”