"Ever since I first heard your music—you remember, two days after we were engaged—I've longed to be able to do a little something to help you on. You know what I mean. In the woman's way, by acting as a sort of buffer between you and all the small irritations of life. We who can't create can sometimes be of use to those who can. We can keep others from disturbing the mystery. Let me do that. And, in return, let me be in the secret, won't you?"
Claude stood rather stiffly under her hands.
"You are kind, good. But—but don't make any bother about me in the house. I'd rather you didn't. Let everything just go on naturally. I don't want to be a nuisance."
"You couldn't be. And you will let me?"
"Perhaps—when I know it myself."
He made a little rather constrained laugh.
"One's got to think, try. One doesn't always know directly what one wishes to do, can do."
"No, of course not."
She took away her hands gently.
"Now I don't exist till you want me to again."