He said after an interval: “Yes, there’s a lot of sound stuff here, Rosalie. It’s convincing. Not that any one needs convincing on the point less than you and I.” He quoted again. “‘And advance them towards an independent and a womanly womanhood.’ And it talks further back about how ‘Idle women’ will soon be recognised as great a term of reproach as ‘an idle man.’ It’s sound. I like this booklet here that each girl’s given, ‘To the Girl of the Future.’ It tells them all about an independent career, makes no fancy picture of it, tells ‘em everything. Did you read that?” “A long time ago. It probably doesn’t tell them one thing.” “What?” “That they can always--chuck it.” He looked up quickly. “Hull-o!” She gave him no response to his expressed surprise and he laughed and said, “D’you know, Rosalie, I don’t believe I’ve ever before heard you use slang.” “You taught me that bit, Harry.” “Oh, I sling it about. When did I?” “One day last holidays when it was just on a year since I’d left Field’s. Just a year, you said, since I’d--chucked it. O Harry--” There was a quality in her voice that might, from what she saw upon his face, have been a tocsin’s roll. His face was as a place of assembly into which, as it might be a people alarmed, there came crowding in emotions. He said, “What’s up?” She said, “O Harry, you look out for yourself!” There was much movement in his face. “Look out for myself?” She said, “That came out of me. I didn’t know I was going to say it. It’s a warning. It shows the fear I have.” “Rosalie, of what, of what?” “Harry, for you.” “You’re going to say something you think will hurt me?” “No, something you’ll have to fight--if you want to fight it. Harry, perhaps I can’t go on like this. I want to go back to my work.” He expired a breath he had been holding. “I was guessing it.” “Before just now?” “No, while you’ve been speaking. Only now. I asked you weeks ago if you ever felt you regretted--” She leant forward from the couch whereon she sat, and with an extended hand interrupted him. She said intensely, “Look here, Harry, if it was just regret I’d not mind and I would tell you No a hundred times, just not to disturb you, dear. But when you asked me that you spoke, a minute afterwards, of my having--chucked it, as if it was giving up sugar or stopping bridge. Well, that’s why I’m warning you to look out for yourself. Because, Harry, I don’t regret it. I’m craving to go back to it, craving, craving, craving!” She stopped. She said, “Do you want me not to go back, Harry?” He looked steadily at her. “Rosalie, it would be a blow to me.” She said, “Well, then!” and she leaned back in the couch as though all now was explained. He very gravely asked her, “Are you going back, Rosalie?” “Would it be a crime, Harry, to go back?” He said to her, “I believe in my soul it would be a disaster.” She got up. “Come over here to me, Harry.”