I nodded.

"A great deal of money," she went on.

"For him--no," I said. "For me--well, yes."

"Eight or nine hundred dollars," she said.

"Those are about the figures," I returned. "Call it nine hundred."

"Oh, how could you! How could you!" she exclaimed.

I remained silent. In fact I did not know what to say.

"Don't you see the position you're putting yourself in?" she said.

"Position?" I repeated. "What position?"

"It's horrible, it's ignoble," she broke out. "I have always
admired you for the way you kept yourself clear of such an
ambiguous relation--you've known to the fraction of an inch what
to take, what to refuse--to preserve your self-respect--my
respect--unimpaired. And here I see you slipping into degradation.
Oh, Hugo! I can't bear it."

"Is it such a crime to borrow a little money?" I asked.

"Not if you pay it back," she returned. "Not if you mean to pay it
back. But you know you can't. You know you won't!"