'
'I'm sure I shall be glad enough to avoid it; but other people,
our friends, read it. That's the worst.'
'You know that their praise would be valueless, so have strength
to disregard the blame. Let our friends read and talk as much as
they like. Can't you console yourself with the thought that I am
not contemptible, though I may have been forced to do poor work?'
'People don't look at it in that way.'
'But, darling,' he took her hands strongly in his own, 'I want
you to disregard other people. You and I are surely everything to
each other? Are you ashamed of me, of me myself?'
'No, not ashamed of you. But I am sensitive to people's talk and
opinions.'
'But that means they make you feel ashamed of me. What else?'
There was silence.
'Edwin, if you find you are unable to do good work, you mustn't
do bad. We must think of some other way of making a living.'
'Have you forgotten that you urged me to write a trashy
sensational story?'
She coloured and looked annoyed.
'You misunderstood me. A sensational story needn't be trash. And
then, you know, if you had tried something entirely unlike your
usual work, that would have been excuse enough if people had
called it a failure.
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