nswer as she wished.

He fell into another thoughtful silence, glanced up at her once sharply
and looked down again. She always felt afraid of him when he looked like
that. No, not afraid of him, but of the relentless thing he was going to
say. Presently he said it. "What's the use? Why, the very fact you seem
afraid of it . . . I can't imagine why . . . shows there would be some use.
To turn your back on anything you're afraid of, that's fatal, always. It
springs on you from behind."

She cried out to him in a sudden anguish that was beyond her control,
"But _suppose you face it and still it springs_!"

Her aspect, her accent, her shaken voice gave him a great start. He
faced her. He looked at her as though he saw her for the first time that
day. And he grew very pale as he looked. Something wordless passed
between them. Now he knew at last what she was afraid of.

But he did not flinch. He said desperately, in a harsh voice, "You have
to take what comes to you in life," and was grimly silent.

Then with a gesture as though to put away something incredible,
approaching him, he went on more quietly, "But my experience is that it
doesn't dare spring if you walk right up to it. Generally you find
you're less afraid of everything in the world, after that."

* * * * *

She had been frightened, stabbed through and through by the look they
had interchanged, by the wordless something which had passed between
them. But now she wondered suddenly, passionately, amazedly, if he had
really understood all the dagger-like possibilities of their talk.

"Neale," she challenged him, "don't you put _any_ limits on this? Isn't
there _any_where you'd stop out of sheer respect? Nothing too hallowed
by . . ."

"Nothing. Nothing," he answered her, his face pale, his eyes deep and
enduring. "It's lying down, not to answer the challenge when it comes.
How do you know what you have to deal with if you won't look to see?
You may find out that something you have been trusting is growing out of
a poisonous root. That does happen. What's the use of pretending that it
couldn't to you, as to anybody else? And what's the use of having lived
honestly, if you haven't grown brave enough to do whatever needs to be
done? If you are scared by the idea that your motherhood may be only
inverted sensuality, or if you think there is any possibility that the
children would be better off in other hands, or if you think . . .