"It's true, isn't it?" she retorted. "I don't want to be unkind, John, but we've really got to face things. I'm frightened. I don't like the thought of getting into debt. I've never been in debt before. Never! And I can't see what's going to happen when we've spent our money if one of us doesn't start to earn something now!" She changed her tone. "John, don't be silly about it. Do agree to my getting a job for the present. You'll be able to get on with your book at home, and any other writing you want to do, and then perhaps things will get straight and we'll be all right!"
"The point is, do you believe in me?" he demanded.
"Of course I believe in you!..."
"Ah, but I mean in my work. In my writing. Do you believe in that?"
"What's that got to do with it? Lots of books are very good that I don't much care for. I liked The Enchanted Lover—it was quite good—but I don't much care for the one you're doing now. I can't help that. I daresay other people will like it better!"
"Why don't you like it?"
"Well, it doesn't seem to me to be about anything."
"Listen, Eleanor! I don't want just to be one of a mob of fairly good writers. If I can't be a great writer, I don't want to be a writer at all. I'll have everything or I'll have nothing!"
"I see!"
"So now you know. I feel I have greatness in me ... but you don't feel like that about me," he said.