'
'It shan't be! I have only to look into your face to know that
you will succeed after all. Yours is the kind of face that people
come to know in portraits.'
He kissed her hair, and her eyes, and her mouth.
'How well I remember your saying that before! Why have you grown
so good to me all at once, my Amy? Hearing you speak like that I
feel there's nothing beyond my reach. But I dread to go away from
you. If I find that it is hopeless; if I am alone somewhere, and
know that the effort is all in vain--'
'Then?'
'Well, I can leave you free. If I can't support you, it will be
only just that I should give you back your freedom.'
'I don't understand--'
She raised herself and looked into his eyes.
'We won't talk of that. If you bid me go on with the struggle, I
shall do so.'
Amy had hidden her face, and lay silently in his arms for a
minute or two. Then she murmured:
'It is so cold here, and so late. Come!'
'So early. There goes three o'clock.'
The next day they talked much of this new project. As there was
sunshine Amy accompanied her husband for his walk in the
afternoon; it was long since they had been out together.
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