y. She's served
her purpose."

Clavering stared, then laughed. "Little you know about it."

"I know more about it than you think. Remember it is my business to
know people's mental insides down to the roots----"

"Not such a good metaphor, that."

"Let it pass. I'm not to be diverted. I've seen her several times
alone, you know. She lunched here the other day, and I purposely asked
no one else. I believe I know her well enough to put her in a book,
complex, both naturally and artificially, as she is. Maybe I shall
some day. You once told me that she had a character of formidable
strength and the 'will to power'--something like that. Well, I agree
with you, and I don't think you'd stand a chance of becoming a great
artist if you married her."

"You're talking utter rot."

"Am I? Tell me that a year hence--if you marry her."

"If? I'd tear the artist in me out by the roots before I'd give her
up."

"You think so. I don't doubt it. But have you really projected your
imagination into the future? I mean beyond the honeymoon? She tells
me that she intends to live in Europe--that she has a great work to
accomplish----"

"Yes, and she needs my help."

"She doesn't need your help, nor anybody's help. For that matter she'd
be better off alone, for I don't doubt she would be in love with you
longer than might be convenient. She has formidable powers of
concentration. . . . But you--what would become of your own career?
You'd be absorbed, devoured, annihilated by that woman. You're no
weakling, but you're an artist and an artist's strength is not like the
ordinary male's. It's too messed up with temperament and imagination.
You are strong enough to impress your personality on her, win her, make
her love you to the exclusion of everything else for the moment, and
possibly hold her for a time. But you never could dominate her. What
she needs is a statesman, if she must have marital partnership at all.
Possibly not even a great executive brain could dominate her either,
but at least it could force upon her a certain equality in personality,
and that you never could do. Not only would your own career be
wrecked, but you'd end by being wretched and resentful--quite apart
from your forfeited right to express your genius in your own
way--because you've been accustomed all your life yourself to the
dominating act. You've always been a star of some sort, and you've
never discouraged yourself--except wh