‘We might sublet it,’ he continued, in the same tone, ‘for the last year of the lease.’
‘And where do you propose to live?’ Amy inquired, coldly.
‘There’s no need to be in such a dear neighbourhood. We could go to one of the outer districts. One might find three unfurnished rooms for about eight-and-sixpence a week—less than half our rent here.’
‘You must do as seems good to you.’
‘For Heaven’s sake, Amy, don’t speak to me in that way! I can’t stand that! Surely you can see that I am driven to think of every possible resource. To speak like that is to abandon me. Say you can’t or won’t do it, but don’t treat me as if you had no share in my miseries!’
She was touched for the moment.
‘I didn’t mean to speak unkindly, dear. But think what it means, to give up our home and position. That is open confession of failure. It would be horrible.’
‘I won’t think of it. I have three months before Christmas, and I will finish a book!’
‘I really can’t see why you shouldn’t. Just do a certain number of pages every day. Good or bad, never mind; let the pages be finished. Now you have got two chapters—’
‘No; that won’t do. I must think of a better subject.’