"It may be a matter of twelve or fifteen thousand dollars--maybe more, if we have to rebuild the 'fill.' I can't tell yet." Ruth released her grasp, moved to the sofa and sank down, her chin resting on her hand.

Twelve or fifteen thousand dollars! This meant ruin to everybody--to her father, to--a new terror now flashed into her mind--to Jack--yes, Jack! Jack would have to go away and find other work--and just at the time, too, when he was getting to be the old Jack once more.

With this came another thought, followed by an instantaneous decision--what could she do to help?
Already she had determined on her course.

She would work--support herself--relieve her father just that much.
An uncomfortable silence followed.

For some moments no one spoke.