But she knows by his voice in a second.

"Oh, Ollie, Ollie, of course I won't take it if it makes you feel that
way, dear. Why, I wouldn't do anything that would hurt you--but Ollie I
don't see how this can, how this could change things any way at all. I
only thought it would bring things nearer--both of us getting jobs and
my having a Paris one and--"

Her voice might be anything else in the world, but it is not wholly
convinced. And its being sure beyond bounds is the only thing that could
possibly help Oliver. He puts his hands on her shoulders.

"I couldn't do anything but tell you to take it, dearest, could I? When
it's such a real chance?" He is hoping with illogical but none the less
painful desperation that she will deny him. But she nods instead.

"Well then, Nancy dear, listen. If you take it, we've got to face
things, haven't we?"

She nods a little rebelliously.

"But why is it so _serious_, Ollie?" and again her voice is not true.

"You know. Because I've failed--God knows when I'll make enough money
for us to get married now--with the novel gone bust and everything.
And I haven't any right to keep you like this when I'm not sure of ever
being able to marry you--and when you've got a job like this and can
go right ahead on the things you've always been crazy to do. Nancy, you
_want_ to take it--even if it meant our not getting married for another
year and your being away--don't you, don't you? Oh, Nancy, you've _got_
to tell me--it'll only bust everything we've had already if you don't!"

And now they have come to a point of misunderstanding that only a trust
as unreasonable as belief in immortality will help. But that trust could
never be bothered with the truth of what it was saying at the
moment--it would have to reach into something deeper than any transitory
feeling--and they have an unlucky tradition of always trying to tell
each other what is exactly true. And so Nancy nods because she has to,
though she couldn't bear to put what that means into words.

"Well, you take it. And I'm awful sorry we couldn't make it go, dear.
I tried as hard as I could to make it go but I guess I didn't have the
stuff, that's all."

He has risen now and his face seems curiously twisted--twisted as if
something hot and hurtful had passed over it and left it so that it
would always look that way. He can hardly bear to look at Nancy, but she
has risen and started talking hurriedly--fright, amazement, concern and