couldn't ask her to start life on a pound a week--about my average
for the last two years; but with two or three hundred in hand, and a
decent little house, like that of Mrs. Cross's, at a reasonable rent
--well, we shall risk it. I'm sick of waiting. And it isn't fair to
a girl--that's my view. Two years now; an engagement that lasts
more than two years isn't likely to come to much good. You'll think
my behaviour pretty cool, on one point. I don't forget, you old
usurer, that I owe you something more than a hundred pounds--"

"Pooh!"

"Be poohed yourself! But for you, I should have gone without dinner
many a day; but for you, I should most likely have had to chuck
painting altogether, and turn clerk or dock-labourer. But let me
stay in your debt a little longer, old man. I can't put off my
marriage any longer, and just at first I shall want all the money I
can lay my hands on."

At this moment Mrs. Hopper entered with a lamp. There was a pause in
the conversation. Franks lit a cigarette, and tried to sit still,
but was very soon pacing the floor again. A tumbler of whisky and
soda reanimated his flagging talk.

"No!" he exclaimed. "I'm not going to admit that 'Sanctuary' is
cheap and sentimental, and all the rest of it. The more I think
about it, the more convinced I am that it's nothing to be ashamed
of. People have got hold of the idea that if a thing is popular it
must be bad art. That's all rot. I'm going in for popularity. Look
here! Suppose that's what I was meant for? What if it's the best I
have in me to do? Shouldn't I be a jackass if I scorned to make