'I told you I had no strength of character,' she said with bitterness, 'what are my gifts, such as they are, to me? You are the thing I want.'
'You could turn your gifts to any account.'
'With you, yes.'
'No, independently of me or any other human being. One stands alone in work. Work is impersonal.'
'Nothing is impersonal to me,' she replied morosely, 'that's my tragedy.'
She flung out her hands.
'Julian, I cherish such endless dreams! I loathe my life of petty adventures; I undertake them only in order to forget the ideal which until now has been denied me. I have crushed down the vision of life with you, but always it has remained at the back of my mind, so wide, so open, a life so free and so full of music and beauty, Julian! I would work—for you. I would create—for you. I don't want to marry you, Julian. I value my freedom above all things. Bondage is not for you or me. But I'll come with you anywhere—to Aphros if you like.'
'To Aphros?' he repeated.
'Why not?'
She put in, with extraordinary skill,—