'But, darling,' he took her hands strongly in his own, 'I want you to disregard other people. You and I are surely everything to each other? Are you ashamed of me, of me myself?'

'No, not ashamed of you. But I am sensitive to people's talk and opinions.'

'But that means they make you feel ashamed of me. What else?'

'Edwin, if you find you are unable to do good work, you mustn't do bad. We must think of some other way of making a living.'

'Have you forgotten that you urged me to write a trashy sensational story?'

She coloured and looked annoyed.

'You misunderstood me. A sensational story needn't be trash. And then, you know, if you had tried something entirely unlike your usual work, that would have been excuse enough if people had called it a failure.'

'We can't live in solitude, Edwin, though really we are not far from it.' He did not dare to make any reply to this. Amy was so exasperatingly womanlike in avoiding the important issue to which he tried to confine her; another moment, and his tone would be that of irritation. So he turned away and sat down to his desk, as if he had some thought of resuming work.