'I might perhaps manage a novel in two volumes, instead of
three.'

He seated himself at the writing-table, and stared at the blank
sheets of paper in an anguish of hopelessness.

'It will take you till Christmas,' said Amy, 'and then you will
get perhaps fifty pounds for it.'

'I must do my best. I'll go out and try to get some ideas. I--'

He broke off and looked steadily at his wife.

'What is it?' she asked.

'Suppose I were to propose to you to leave this flat and take
cheaper rooms?'

He uttered it in a shamefaced way, his eyes falling. Amy kept
silence.

'We might sublet it,' he continued, in the same tone, 'for the
last year of the lease.'

'And where do you propose to live?' Amy inquired, coldly.

'There's no need to be in such a dear neighbourhood. We could go
to one of the outer districts. One might find three unfurnished
rooms for about eight-and-sixpence a week--less than half our