She smiled “No,” she said. “I'm not insatiable, Master. But I'm a woman in love. And I'm finding out what I want, and what is necessary to me--and what I can't have. That's all.” “We get a lot.” “We want a lot. You and I are greedy people for the things we like, Master. It's very evident we've got nearly all we can ever have of one another--and I'm not satisfied.” “What more is there? “For you--very little. I wonder. For me--every thing. Yes--everything. You didn't mean it, Master; you didn't know any more than I did when I began, but love between a man and a woman is sometimes very one-sided. Fearfully one-sided! That's all....” “Don't YOU ever want children?” she said abruptly. “I suppose I do.” “You don't!” “I haven't thought of them.” “A man doesn't, perhaps. But I have.... I want them--like hunger. YOUR children, and home with you. Really, continually you! That's the trouble.... I can't have 'em, Master, and I can't have you.” She was crying, and through her tears she laughed. “I'm going to make a scene,” she said, “and get this over. I'm so discontented and miserable; I've got to tell you. It would come between us if I didn't. I'm in love with you, with everything--with all my brains. I'll pull through all right. I'll be good, Master, never you fear. But to-day I'm crying out with all my being. This election--You're going up; you're going on. In these papers--you're a great big fact. It's suddenly come home to me. At the back of my mind I've always had the idea I was going to have you somehow presently for myself--I mean to have you to go long tramps with, to keep house for, to get meals for, to watch for of an evening. It's a sort of habitual background to my thought of you. And it's nonsense--utter nonsense!” She stopped. She was crying and choking. “And the child, you know--the child!” I was troubled beyond measure, but Handitch and its intimations were clear and strong. “We can't have that,” I said. “No,” she said, “we can't have that.” “We've got our own things to do.” “YOUR things,” she said. “Aren't they yours too?” “Because of you,” she said. “Aren't they your very own things?” “Women don't have that sort of very own thing. Indeed, it's true! And think! You've been down there preaching the goodness of children, telling them the only good thing in a state is happy, hopeful children, working to free mothers and children--” “And we give our own children to do it?” I said.