"Not a bit. I want more experience first. I want to be able to do work I needn't apologize for when I really begin with a city studio."
"You are doing finished work, in my opinion."
"Not in mine."
He laughed. "There is nothing weak about your will," said he.
"I hope not. I need a strong one."
"Granted, if you mean to persist in making your own way. But I live in hope that when you have demonstrated to your own satisfaction that you are perfectly competent to hew out that way for yourself, you will be willing to let some stouter pair of arms take a turn with the axe."
His tone had meaning in it, but she turned it aside.
"Could anybody take your studio away from you? Even though you don't do it for a living, but only because you adore it, could you be induced to give it up?"
"I'm not trying to induce you to give yours up. I'll build a separate one for you right beside mine, any time you say the word, and you shall pursue your avocation in perfect freedom. All I object to is your making the thing your vocation. I know of a better one for you."
She shook her head. "We went over all this ground—over and over it—before I came away. Why do you come out here and begin it all over again? I don't want to talk about it."