“Not without you. But you’ll come away when it’s finished?”
Tom walked up and down the room.
“May, I’m frightened,” he said, “horribly frightened, and it’s a bad feeling. A bill came in this afternoon, which of course I thought had been paid with the rest.”
“A bill? How much for?”
“Thirty pounds?”
“Oh, Tom!”
“It frightened me. I’m losing nerve. I don’t see that we can pay it now. There is no reason why it shouldn’t stand over. If no one will buy Demeter the time will come, and come soon, when we must get money somehow, and I think I shall let it stand over till she’s finished. I hope to goodness I shan’t be dunned for it. I used not to mind being dunned when I was at Cambridge, and had plenty of money; but it’s no fun now. They county-courted me once—I’ve got the summons still. I think if I was county-courted now I should die of it.”
“But what are we to do?”
“I only want to finish Demeter. There will be money enough for that, if the bill stands over.”
“And when Demeter is finished?” asked May.