‘You didn’t mention your plans,’ said Amy, when the visitor had been gone some time.
‘No.’
Reardon was content with the negative, and his wife made no further remark.
The result of advertising the flat was that two or three persons called to make inspection. One of them, a man of military appearance, showed himself anxious to come to terms; he was willing to take the tenement from next quarter-day (June), but wished, if possible, to enter upon possession sooner than that.
‘Nothing could be better,’ said Amy in colloquy with her husband. ‘If he will pay for the extra time, we shall be only too glad.’
Reardon mused and looked gloomy. He could not bring himself to regard the experiment before him with hopefulness, and his heart sank at the thought of parting from Amy.
‘You are very anxious to get rid of me,’ he answered, trying to smile.
‘Yes, I am,’ she exclaimed; ‘but simply for your own good, as you know very well.’
‘Suppose I can’t sell this book?’
‘You will have a few pounds. Send your “Pliny” article to The Wayside. If you come to an end of all your money, mother shall lend you some.’