cut to pieces by surgeons all the time, and picking up the little that’s left of himself and bothering about the limitations of space—much good they’ll do him!”
St. Peter rose, took both of his daughter’s hands, and stood laughing at her. “Come now! You have more brains than that, Kitty. It happens you do understand that whatever poor Crane can find out about space is more good to him than all the money the Marselluses will ever have. But are you implying that if Crane and I had developed Tom’s discovery, we might have kept Rosie and her money in the family, for ourselves?”
Kathleen threw up her head. “Oh, I don’t want her money!”
“Exactly; nor do I. And we mustn’t behave as if we did want it. If you permit yourself to be envious of Rosie, you’ll be very foolish, and very unhappy.”
The Professor walked away across the snowy park with a tired step. He was heavyhearted. For Kathleen he had a special kind of affection. Perhaps it was because he had had to take care of her for one whole summer when she was little.