Dinner over, Amy at once made ready for her journey to Westbourne
Park.
'Then you won't come?' she said to her husband.
'No. I shall see your mother before I go away, but I don't care
to till you have settled everything.'
It was half a year since he had met Mrs Yule. She never came to
their dwelling, and Reardon could not bring himself to visit her.
'You had very much rather we didn't sell the furniture?' Amy
asked.
'Ask your mother's opinion. That shall decide.'
'There'll be the expense of moving it, you know. Unless money
comes from The Wayside, you'll only have two or three pounds
left.'
Reardon made no reply. He was overcome by the bitterness of
shame.
'I shall say, then,' pursued Amy, who spoke with averted face,
'that I am to go there for good on Tuesday? I mean, of course,
for the summer months.'
'I suppose so.'
Then he turned suddenly upon her.
'Do you really imagine that at the end of the summer I shall be a
rich man? What do you mean by talking in this way? If the
furniture is sold to supply me with a few pounds for the present,
what prospect is there that I shall be able to buy new?'
'How can we look forward at all?' replied Amy.
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