"Perhaps you have been saving a little yourself, Nina?" he said, at a
venture.
"Oh, yes, I have, Leo, a little," she answered, rather shamefacedly.
"What for?" he made bold to ask.
"Oh, how do I know?" she said, with downcast eyes. "Many things might
happen: is it not safer? No, Leo, you must not say I love money for
itself; it is not fair to me; but--but if a dear friend is ill--if a
doctor says to him, 'Suspend all work and go away to Capri, to Algeria,
to Eg--Egippo'--is it right?--and perhaps he has been indiscreet--he has
been too generous to all his companions--he is in need--then you say,
'Here, take mine--it is between friends.' Then you are proud to have
money, are you not?"
"I'm afraid, Nina, that's what they call a parable," said he, darkly.
"But I am sure of this, that if that person were to be taken ill, and
were so very poor, and were to go to Nina for help, I don't think he
would have to fear any refusal. And then, as you say, Nina, you would be
proud to have the money--just as I know you would be ready to give it."
It was rarely that Nina blushed, but now her pretty, pale face fairly
burned with conscious pleasure; and he hardly dared to look, yet he
fancied there was something of moisture in the long, dark lashes, while
she did not speak for some seconds.
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