“So selfish!” he said, freeing her, dropping his arms, standing amazed. “Selfish! Oh, my love, you’re right, right. It was damnably selfish; I was just thinking of myself. But—are you happy when you’re not with me?”
“You know I’m not, George. But—I’m so proud of you, and I should hate myself if I knew I was standing in your way. I should be unhappy with you then. Besides, dear, is—is——”
“Yes?”
“Is it right to love me like that? Love ought to help you, not harm you.”
“Help me! It has helped me to understand what happiness is. I didn’t know that before.”
“Well, George, you mustn’t kill my pride; keep me proud of you, proud of having helped you, proud of myself. There, we’ll talk no more about it now, and to-morrow, or the next day, you shall start another picture, only I will not be your model.”
“But——”
“No! We’re not going to argue the first day we are together. Look, the rain’s over and the sun’s trying to come out. I’ll run up and put on my country boots and hat, and we’ll go for a walk over the downs.”