calling altogether?

"To-night, you see, I think I should have been a better chimney-sweep.
The real something that makes the musician--even the genuinely musical
outsider--is wanting in me. I've learnt to see that, by degrees, though
I don't know in the least what it is.--But even suppose I were
mistaken--who could tell me that I was? One's friends are only too glad
to avoid giving a downright opinion, and then, too, which of them would
one care to trust? I believe in the end I shall go straight to Schwarz,
and get him to tell me what he thinks of me--whether I'm making a fool
of myself or not."

"Oh, I wouldn't do that," Louise said quickly.

It was the first time she had interrupted him. She had sat and followed
his restless movements with a look of apprehension. A certain board in
the floor creaked when he trod on it, and she found herself listening,
each time, for the creaking of this board. She was sorry for him, but
she could not attach the importance he did to his assumed want of
success, nor was she able to subdue the feeling of distaste with which
his doubtings inspired her. It was so necessary, too, this outpouring;
she had never felt curious about the side of his nature which was not
the lover's side. Tonight, it became clear to her that she would have
preferred to remain in ignorance of it. And besides, what he said was
so palpable, so undeniable, that she could not understand his dragging
the matter to the surface: she had never thought of him but as one of
the many honest workers, who swell the majority, and are not destined
to rise above the crowd. She had not dreamed of his considering himself
in another light, and it was painful to her now, to find that he had
done so. To put an end to such embarrassing confidences, she went over
to him, and, with her hands on his shoulders, her face upturned, said
all the consoling words she could think of, to make him forget. They
had never yet failed in their effect. But to-night too much was at work
in Maurice, for him to be influenced by them. He kissed her, and
touched her cheek with his hand, then began anew; and she moved away,
with a slight impatience, which she did not try to conceal.

"You brood too much, Maurice ... and you exaggerate things, too. What
if every one took himself so seriously?--and talked of failure because
on a single occasion he didn't do himself justice?"

"It's more than that with me, dear.--But it's a bad habit, I know--not
that I r