to his own use. He got you involved in the Pico deal. That isn't an open
crime. It is a sneaking, cowardly crime, in that he is forcing you to
bear a part of the odium."

Helen's voice faltered, but her eyes did not leave Winston's.

"That Pico business was begun before the Pacific failed. You are wrong
there."

"I am not wrong," Winston burst in hotly. His indignation waxed against
Elijah. "He is crooked from the crown of his head to the soles of his
feet. So long as it was between himself and me I could stand it, but
when it comes to you, I will endure it no longer. He will quit or I will
break him. I can and I will."

"You don't know all, Ralph, or you wouldn't say that." Helen's voice was
firmer.

"I do know all. Don't I know that he has given the company his note, or
pretended to, and secured it by his stock?"

Helen's eyes were on Winston.

"Do you know this?" She was honestly in doubt. Perhaps Elijah had
confided in Winston after all.

"I have not seen the papers, but I know Elijah Berl. He has stilled his
conscience without surrendering, one iota, his purpose. This note and
security are in his own hands. When it comes to the point, he will find
a new way to quiet what he calls his conscience."

"You do not know all, Ralph. You are unjust. This has gone far
enough--too far." Helen spoke coldly. She felt compelled to, against the
pleadings of her heart. She turned and began to move away.

Winston's hand was again on her arm, restraining her. She tried to free
herself, but try as she would, she could not make the action final.

Winston's hand slipped down her arm till her hand rested in his.

"Helen, I would say all of this for the sake of friendship alone--"

She strove to draw her hand from his.

"Stop, Ralph, stop right there."

"I will not." Winston's grasp tightened, he was drawing her towards him
in spite of herself. "There is more than friendship, Helen. There is
love. I cannot tell you how much; you will have to let me teach you."

His arm was around her now, his eyes striving to look into her own. The
pulse of his words, the light of his eyes, the touch of his hand, there
was in all these the clear, strong definition between mine and thine.
Mine to desire, mine to ask, mine to plead for my desires; thine to give
or to withhold that which is all and more than all to me. My heart, my
life, my love; thy acceptance of my offering. No selfish pleading, no
imperative demand, only a right to