I
can't. And all I can do is to spend the income of my money my mother
left me--spend it as I please." With a quick embarrassed gesture she
took an envelope from a small bag in which she was carrying it.
"There's some of it," she said. "I want to give that to your campaign
fund. You are free to use it in any way you please--any way, for
everything you are and do is your cause."

Victor was lying motionless, his eyes closed.

"Don't refuse," she begged. "You've no right to refuse."

A long silence, she watching him uneasily. At last he said, "No--I've
no right to refuse. If I did, it would be from a personal motive. You
understand that when you give the League this money you are doing what
your father would regard as an act of personal treachery to him?"

"You don't think so, do you?" cried she.

"Yes, I do," said he deliberately.

Her face became deathly pale, then crimson. She thrust the envelope
into the bag, closed it hastily. "Then I can't give it," she murmured.
"Oh--but you are hard!"

"If you broke with your father and came with us--and it killed him, as
it probably would," Victor Dorn went on, "I should respect you--should
regard you as a wonderful, terrible woman. I should envy you having a
heart strong enough to do a thing so supremely right and so supremely
relentless. And I should be glad you were not of my blood--should
think you hardly human. Yet that is what you ought to do."

"I am not up to it," said Jane.

"Then you mustn't do the other," said Victor. "We need the money. I
am false to the cause in urging you not to give it. But--I'm human."

He was looking away, an expression in his eyes and about his mouth that
made him handsomer than she would have believed a man could be. She
was looking at him longingly, her beautiful eyes swimming. Her lips
were saying inaudibly, "I love you--I love you."

"What did you say?" he asked, his thoughts returning from their far
journey.

"My time is up," she exclaimed, rising.

"There are better ways of helping than money," said he, taking her
hand. "And already you've helped in those ways."

"May I come again?"

"Whenever you like. But--what would your father say?"

"Then you don't want me to come again?"

"It's best not," said he. "I wish fate had thrown us on the same side.
But it has put us in opposite camps--and we owe it to ourselves to
submit."

Their hands were still clasped. "You are content to have it so?" she
said