‘You have asked Mr Carter to take you back as a clerk?’
‘I have.’
‘And you propose that we shall live on twenty-five shillings a week?’
‘Oh no! I shall be engaged only three mornings in the week and three evenings. In my free time I shall do literary work, and no doubt I can earn fifty pounds a year by it—if I have your sympathy to help me. To-morrow I shall go and look for rooms some distance from here; in Islington, I think. We have been living far beyond our means; that must come to an end. We’ll have no more keeping up of sham appearances. If I can make my way in literature, well and good; in that case our position and prospects will of course change. But for the present we are poor people, and must live in a poor way. If our friends like to come and see us, they must put aside all snobbishness, and take us as we are. If they prefer not to come, there’ll be an excuse in our remoteness.’
Amy was stroking the back of her hand. After a long silence, she said in a very quiet, but very resolute tone:
‘I shall not consent to this.’
‘In that case, Amy, I must do without your consent. The rooms will be taken, and our furniture transferred to them.’
‘To me that will make no difference,’ returned his wife, in the same voice as before. ‘I have decided—as you told me to—to go with Willie to mother’s next Tuesday. You, of course, must do as you please. I should have thought a summer at the seaside would have been more helpful to you; but if you prefer to live in Islington—’
Reardon approached her, and laid a hand on her shoulder.
‘Amy, are you my wife, or not?’