"I don't believe I shall get much out of breath, catching up with your advanced ideas," Guy retorted. "Anyway this Autumn I shall come to town for good."
"And about time you did," said Maurice. "I say, mind you send your poems to The Point of View, and I'll give you a smashing fine notice the week after publication."
Guy asked when Michael was coming back.
"He's made a glorious mess of things, hasn't he?" said Maurice.
"Oh, I don't know. Not necessarily."
"Well, I admit he found her out in time. But fancy wanting to marry a girl like that. I told him what she was, and he merely got furious with me. But he's an extraordinary chap altogether. By the way when are you going to get married?"
"When I can afford it," said Guy.
"The question is whether an artist can ever afford to get married."
"What rot you talk."
"Wiser men than I have come to that conclusion," said Maurice. "Of course I haven't met your lady-love; but it does seem to me that your present mode of life is bound to be sterile of impressions."