"I never criticised you for loving the joys of the senses," cried she. "Never! We are too much alike there."
"What happiness we could have!" exclaimed he. "For do we not know how to make life smooth and comfortable and beautiful, you and I?"
"Only too well," confessed she. "I often think of it. But——"
He waited for her to continue. When he saw that she would not, but was lost in a reverie, he said, "You promised you would think about our going abroad. Have you thought?"
She nodded.
"You will go?"
She slowly shook her head.
"Why not?"
"I want to, but—I can't."
"Why?"