“Reality.”
“Merely that?” Her voice was disdainful and challenging.
He took up its challenge.
“No—more than that. Pain. You stand for that.”
“I?”
“And heartbreak.”
“I?”
“And yesterday and tomorrow.”
“And am I,” she demanded quietly, “never to stand for any of the beautiful things?—Must you find them—or think you find them—in Phyllis ... and Elva?...”
He felt as though they had reached the crux of their discussion at last. And he felt, too, that it was a perilous moment. He could sense the forces of an intense resistance gathering in her mind.