his hands off her. He had to remind himself that she was no child to
be comforted with empty kisses; but very woman and very artist, torn
between the master-forces of life.

"See here, lass," he said quietly, laying aside his half-smoked cigar.
"As this is a big matter for us both, we may as well get at the root of
it straight away. You said this afternoon that you could not give up
your individuality because you had accepted marriage. Very well.
Neither can I. That still leaves us two alternatives. Either we must
give up the notion of living together; or we must be prepared to make
concessions--both of us. That is why I said that marriage means
compromise. If we go on much longer as we have been doing lately,
seeing next to nothing of one another because the house has been
converted into a surplus club for half the fellows in the station; and
if you are going to spend your time 'getting inside' other men with a
view to painting their portraits, we shall simply drift apart as the
Nortons did. Conditions of life out here make that sort of thing
fatally easy to fall into. But I tell you plainly that if there is to
be no attempt at amalgamation, if we are each to go our own way,
then--we must lead separate lives. I would not even have you in India.
It would be a case of going home."

The two spots of fire had died out of her face, and she turned wide,
startled eyes upon him.

"I don't--quite understand." Her voice was barely audible, "Are you
telling me--to go?"

"My dear--can you ask that? I am only pointing out the conditions that
might make such a catastrophe--inevitable. Looking things in the face
may prevent future friction and misunderstanding, which are the very
devil. What's more, I never realised till lately what a very big
factor your art is in your life. I believe it is the biggest thing of
all. Am I right?"

"I don't know. I can't tell--yet."

He straightened himself, and his face hardened.

"You can easily find out by putting the matter to practical proof. In
fact, I am going to make a proposal that will not leave you very long
in doubt. You have genius, Quita. I recognise that. And I want you
to think seriously over all you said this afternoon about not cramping
or distorting your individuality to suit my 'prejudices.' If you feel
that your art must come before everything, that marriage will only
hamper its full development, without making good what you lose,--in
fact, if you th