Peter. And _that_ was why you urged this study on me? Mar. Yes. Peter. Margaret! Why? (_Backing from, her, and sitting centre during her speech._) Mar. I've seen men ruined by this itch to speak. You know them. Men we had great hopes of in the movement. Men we thought would be real leaders of the people. And they spoke, and spoke, and soon said all they had to say, became mere windbags trading on a reputation till people tired and turned to some new orator. Don't be one of these, Peter. You've solider grit than they. The itch to speak is like the itch to drink, except that it's cheaper to talk yourself tipsy. Peter. You ask a great thing of me, Margaret. Mar. (_sitting right_) What shall I see of you if you're out speaking every night? You pitied me just now because you had to close your door against me while you studied. I could bear that for the time. But this other thing, married and widowed at once, with you out at your work all day and away night after night---- Peter. But I shan't always be working in the daytime. Mar. (_alarmed_). Not work! Peter--they haven't dismissed you? Peter. Oh, no. I'm safe if anyone is safe. No one is, of course, but I'm as safe as man can be. I'm a first-elass workman. Mar. I know that, dear. Peter. So do they. They'll not sack me. I might sack them some day. Mar. But--how shall we live? Peter (_impatiently_). Oh, not yet. I'm speaking of the future. Don't you see? I'm not content to be a workman all my life. I ought to make a living easily by writing and--and speaking if you'll let me. Then I could be with you all day long. Mar. (_looking straight in front of her_). Have I set fire to this train? Peter. You don't suppose a B.A. means to stick to manual labour all his life, do you? Mar. Oh, dear! This wasn't my idea at all. I wanted you to win your degree for the honour of the thing, to show them what a working engineer could do. Cease to be a workman and you confess another, worse motive. It's as though you only passed to make a profit for yourself. Peter. I can't help being ambitious. I wasn't till you set me on. Mar. If you listened to me then, listen to me now. Peter (_pushing his chair hack and rising_). I might have a career. (_Crossing to fireplace._) Mar (_still sitting_). And I might have a husband. I don't want to marry a career, Peter. Peter (_looking into fire, his back to Margaret_). I've already got a local reputation as a speaker. Mar. Then make one as a writer. I know you can. Peter. The other's easier. Mar. It's not like you to choose the easy path. Peter. I've worked so hard. I did think that now I might have some reward. Mar. You've won your degree. Peter (_acquiescent_). Oh, yes. Mar. And--I'm ready, Peter. (_Slight pause._) Peter (_turning_). Yes. You've conquered me. I'll fight ambition down. It shall be as you wish, Margaret.