... In his study. Late summer. The Virginia creeper just on the turn. . . .

" Well, my dear chap, that's the whole story. That's the long and the short of it. If she can't cut away for the next two years and give a decent climate a chance she don't stand a dog's—h'm— show. Better be frank about these things." " Oh, certainly. ..." " And hang it all, old man, what's to prevent you going with her? It isn't as though you've got a regular job like us wage earners. You can do what you do wherever you are——" " Two years." " Yes, I should give it two years. You'll have no trouble about letting this house you know. As a matter of fact . . ."

... He is with her. " Robert, the awful thing is—I suppose it's my illness—I simply feel I could page 192not go alone. You see—you're everything. You're bread and wine, Robert, bread and wine. Oh, my darling—what am I saying ? Of course I could, of course I won't take you away. . . ."