He put a hand on her shoulder. “We’re not afraid.”
“But I’m so strong in this. So always certain. In our dear years together so utterly assured. Nothing within the principle could touch me. I am steel everywhere upon the principle. I might hurt you, Harry.”
“I’ll not be hurt.”
“Well, say it, Harry.”
He was silent a moment. “There isn’t really very much to say. To me it’s so clear.”
She murmured, “And to me.”
He said, “We’ve made this home—eleven years. It’s been ideal. You have combined your work with your—what shall I call it?—with your domestic arrangements—your business with your domesticity—You’ve done it wonderfully. We’ve never had to discuss the subject since we agreed upon it.”
She murmured, “That is why—agreed.”
“Agreed in general. But when you take the home as between a man and a woman, there are bound to be responsibilities which, however much you share, cannot be divided. The woman’s are the—the domesticity.”
“What are the man’s?”