Chapter 30

           Onabeautifulfallday,adayofsimilarIndiansummertothatwhichhadseentheirlovedeclaredtheyearbefore,Martinreadhis"Love-cycle"toRuth. Itwasintheafternoon,and,asbefore,theyhadriddenouttotheirfavoriteknollinthehills. Nowandagainshehadinterruptedhisreadingwithexclamationsofpleasure,andnow,ashelaidthelastsheetofmanuscriptwithitsfellows,hewaitedherjudgment. 

           Shedelayedtospeak,andatlastshespokehaltingly,hesitatingtoframeinwordstheharshnessofherthought. 

           "Ithinktheyarebeautiful,verybeautiful,"shesaid; "butyoucan’tsellthem,canyou? YouseewhatImean,"shesaid,almostpleaded. "Thiswritingofyoursisnotpractical. Somethingisthemattermaybeitiswiththemarketthatpreventsyoufromearningalivingbyit. Andplease,dear,don’tmisunderstandme. Iamflattered,andmadeproud,andallthatIcouldnotbeatruewomanwereitotherwisethatyoushouldwritethesepoemstome. Buttheydonotmakeourmarriagepossible. Don’tyousee,Martin? Don’tthinkmemercenary. Itislove,thethoughtofourfuture,withwhichIamburdened. Awholeyearhasgonebysincewelearnedwelovedeachother,andourweddingdayisnonearer. Don’tthinkmeimmodestinthustalkingaboutourwedding,forreallyIhavemyheart,allthatIam,atstake. Whydon’tyoutrytogetworkonanewspaper,ifyouaresoboundupinyourwriting? Whynotbecomeareporter? forawhile,atleast?" 

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