"Oh!" murmured Conny, more troubled than ever.
"You won't do it lightly, whatever you do, I know! … And I'll manage—I shall be away a good deal this winter."
There was another long silence, and when Conny sighed and prepared to leave the room, Percy spoke:—
"There's one thing, Conny…. This mustn't affect the children."
"Oh, Percy!" she protested. "Of course not."
"You must be careful that it won't—in any way, you understand. That would be very—wrong."
"Of course," Conny admitted in the same slightly injured tone, as if he were undervaluing her character. "Whatever I do," she added, "I shall not sacrifice you or the children, naturally."
"We needn't talk more about it, then, need we?"
Conny slowly crossed the room to her husband, and putting one hand on his shoulder she leaned down and pushed up the hair from his forehead, murmuring:—
"You know I love you, Percy!"