"Only one day!"
"Days with me mean money, Lizzie, and money is a thing which is at present
very necessary to me."
"I hate money."
"That's very well for you because you have plenty of it."
"I hate money. It is the only thing that one has that one cannot give to
those one loves. I could give you anything else--though it cost a thousand
pounds."
"Pray don't. Most people like presents, but they only bore me."
"Because you are so indifferent, Frank; so cold. Do you remember giving me
a little ring?"
"Very well indeed. It cost eight and sixpence."
"I never thought what it cost; but there it is." This she said drawing off
her glove and showing him her finger. "And when I am dead there it will
be. You say you want money, Frank. May I not give it you? Are not we
brother and sister?"
"My dear Lizzie, you say you hate money. Don't talk about it."
"It is you that talk about it. I only talk about it because I want to give
it you; yes, all that I have. When I first knew what was the real meaning
of my husband's will, my only thought was to be of assistance to you."
In real truth Frank was becoming very sick of her.
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