ith
folded arms, a smile on her lips, her brows knitted to the epic humour.
In a few minutes it was as if no difficulties threatened their life.
Every now and then Reardon looked up from his translating with a
delighted laugh, in which Amy joined.
When he had returned the book to the shelf he stepped behind his wife's
chair, leaned upon it, and put his cheek against hers.
'Amy!'
'Yes, dear?'
'Do you still love me a little?'
'Much more than a little.'
'Though I am sunk to writing a wretched pot-boiler?'
'Is it so bad as all that?'
'Confoundedly bad. I shall be ashamed to see it in print; the proofs
will be a martyrdom.'
'Oh, but why? why?'
'It's the best I can do, dearest. So you don't love me enough to hear
that calmly.'
'If I didn't love you, I might be calmer about it, Edwin. It's dreadful
to me to think of what they will say in the reviews.'
'Curse the reviews!'
His mood had changed on the instant. He stood up with darkened face,
trembling angrily.
'I want you to promise me something, Amy. You won't read a single one
of the notices unless it is forced upon your attention. Now, promise me
that. Neglect them absolutely, as I do. They're not worth a glance of
your eyes. And I shan't be able to bear it if I know you read all the
contempt that will be poured on me.'
'I'm sure I shall be glad enough to avoid it; but other people, our
friends, read it. That's the worst.'
'You know that their praise would be valueless, so have strength to
disregard the blame. Let our friends read and talk as much as they like.
Can't you console yourself with the thought that I am not contemptible,
though I may have been forced to do poor work?'
'People don't look at it in that way.'
'But, darling,' he took her hands strongly in his own, 'I want you to
disregard other people. You and I are surely everything to each other?
Are you ashamed of me, of me myself?'
'No, not ashamed of you. But I am sensitive to people's talk and
opinions.'
'But that means they make you feel ashamed of me. What else?'
There was silence.
'Edwin, if you find you are unable to do good work, you mustn't do bad.
We must think of some other way of making a living.'
'Have you forgotten that you urged me to write a trashy sensational
story?'
She coloured and looked annoyed.
'You misunderstood me. A sensational story needn't be trash. And then,
you know, if you had tried something entirely unlike your usual work,
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