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The Register
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HE, hastily: “Oh, no matter! no matter! I don’t care for the money now. I merely wish to–to assure you that I thought you were perfectly right in offering it, and to–to” –
SHE: “What?”
HE: “Nothing. That is–ah–ah” –
SHE: “It’s extremely embarrassing to have people refuse their money when it’s offered them, and then come the next day for it, when perhaps it isn’t so convenient to pay it–VERY embarrassing.”
HE, hotly: “But I tell you I don’t want the MONEY! I never wanted it, and wouldn’t take it on any account.”
SHE: “Oh! I thought you said you came to get it?”
HE: “I said–I didn’t say–I meant–that is–ah–I”–He stops, open- mouthed.
SHE, quietly: “I could give you part of the money now.”
HE: “Oh, whatever you like; it’s indifferent” –
SHE: “Please sit down while I write a receipt.” She places herself deliberately at the table, and opens her portfolio. “I will pay you now, Mr. Ransom, for the first six lessons you gave me–the ones before you told me that I could never learn to do anything.”
HE, sinking mechanically into the chair she indicates: “Oh, just as you like!” He looks up at the ceiling in hopeless bewilderment, while she writes.
SHE, blotting the paper: “There! And now let me offer you a little piece of advice, Mr. Ransom, which may be useful to you in taking pupils hereafter.”
HE, bursting out: “I never take pupils!”
SHE: “Never take pupils! I don’t understand. You took ME.”
HE, confusedly: “I took you–yes. You seemed to wish–you seemed– the case was peculiar–peculiar circumstances.”
SHE, with severity: “May I ask WHY the circumstances were peculiar? I saw nothing peculiar about the circumstances. It seemed to me it was a very simple matter. I told you that I had always had a great curiosity to see whether I could use oil paints, and I asked you a very plain question, whether you would let me study with you. Didn’t I?”
HE: “Yes.”
SHE: “Was there anything wrong–anything queer about my asking you?”
HE: “No, no! Not at all–not in the least.”
SHE: “Didn’t you wish me to take the lessons of you? If you didn’t, it wasn’t kind of you to let me.”
HE: “Oh, I was perfectly willing–very glad indeed, very much so– certainly!”
SHE: “If it wasn’t your CUSTOM to take pupils, you ought to have told me, and I wouldn’t have forced myself upon you.”
HE, desperately: “It wasn’t forcing yourself upon me. The Lord knows how humbly grateful I was. It was like a hope of heaven!”
SHE: “Really, Mr. Ransom, this is very strange talk. What am I to understand by it? Why should you be grateful to teach me? Why should giving me lessons be like a hope of heaven?”
HE: “Oh, I will tell you!”
SHE: “Well?”
HE, after a moment of agony: “Because to be with you” –
SHE: “Yes?”
HE: “Because I wished to be with you. Because–those days in the woods, when you read, and I” –
SHE: “Painted on my pictures” –
HE: “Were the happiest of my life. Because–I loved you!”
SHE: “Mr. Ransom!”
HE: “Yes, I must tell you so. I loved you; I love you still. I shall always love you, no matter what” –