Philadelphia. This frightened Aileen.

"Don't you suppose they must know, some of them, about us?" she
asked Cowperwood, on the way home.

"I suppose so," he replied, thoughtfully. "I'm sure I don't know.
I wouldn't worry about that if I were you. If you worry about
it you'll suggest it to them. I haven't made any secret of my
term in prison in Philadelphia, and I don't intend to. It wasn't
a square deal, and they had no right to put me there."

"I know, dear," replied Aileen, "it might not make so much difference
if they did know. I don't see why it should. We are not the only
ones that have had marriage troubles, I'm sure.

"There's just one thing about this; either they accept us or they
don't. If they don't, well and good; we can't help it. We'll go
on and finish the house, and give them a chance to be decent. If
they won't be, there are other cities. Money will arrange matters
in New York--that I know. We can build a real place there, and
go in on equal terms if we have money enough--and I will have money
enough," he added, after a moment's pondering. "Never fear. I'll
make millions here, whether they want me to or not, and after that
--well, after that, we'll see what we'll see. Don't worry. I
haven't seen many troubles in this world that money wouldn't cure."

His teeth had that even set that they always assumed when he was
dangerously in earnest. He took Aileen's hand, however, and pressed
it gently.