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210 "They don't pay you."

His mouth involuntarily gave a twist of contempt.

"They don't pay you," she repeated. "You are wearing yourself out . . . for nothing."

"Try and feel, Tilly, that I am not wearing myself out for nothing . . . just because I am not making money."

"Then teach me to feel it."

He looked at her in despair.

"Teach me!" she entreated. "For your sake, because I love you, I will try to learn, try to feel . . . I love you, I love you, Addie!"

"Dear," he said, gently, "I'll do my best . . . to teach you to feel it. Come with me."

"Where?"

"There . . . to those little cottages."

"Who lives in them?"

"Poor people . . . sick people . . . whom I attend."

"Addie . . . no, no . . . no! . . ."

"Why not?"

"I'm not prepared for it. . . . You know I can't stand that. . . ."

"You're a healthy woman; your nerves are strong: come with me."

She went with him, not daring to refuse.

"Tilly," he said, gently, as they walked on and approached the cottages, "I will try to have understanding for both of us. . . . If you are to be happy in yourself . . . with me . . . happy the two of us . . . then . . ."

"Well?"

"Then you must learn to understand me . . . to understand me very deep down, as I am. Then you must try to understand . . . all of us; to love us all: my father, my mother. . . . Tilly, Tilly, can you? . . ."