‘Forgive me, dearest love! I was half a madman. You have been so cold to me for a long time.’
‘I have been distracted. It was as if we were drawing nearer and nearer to the edge of a cataract.’
‘Have you spoken to your mother about this?’ he asked uneasily.
‘No—not exactly this. But I know she will help us in this way.’
He had seated himself and was holding her in his arms, his face laid against hers.
‘I shall dread to part from you, Amy. That’s such a dangerous thing to do. It may mean that we are never to live as husband and wife again.’
‘But how could it? It’s just to prevent that danger. If we go on here till we have no money—what’s before us then? Wretched lodgings at the best. And I am afraid to think of that. I can’t trust myself if that should come to pass.’
‘What do you mean?’ he asked anxiously.
‘I hate poverty so. It brings out all the worst things in me; you know I have told you that before, Edwin?’
‘But you would never forget that you are my wife?’