"
"You'll have a chance, if he stays a month!"
"I don't dislike him, certainly, as you do. But how can I love him when
he tells me he wants me to give up everything, all our work, our faith,
our future, never to give another address, to open my lips in public?
How can I consent to that?" Verena went on, smiling strangely.
"He asks you that, just that way?"
"No; it's not that way. It's very kindly."
"Kindly? Heaven help you, don't grovel! Doesn't he know it's my house?"
Olive added, in a moment.
"Of course he won't come into it, if you forbid him."
"So that you may meet him in other places--on the shore, in the
country?"
"I certainly shan't avoid him, hide away from him," said Verena proudly.
"I thought I made you believe, in New York, that I really cared for our
aspirations. The way for me then is to meet him, feeling conscious of my
strength. What if I do like him? what does it matter? I like my work in
the world, I like everything I believe in, better."
Olive listened to this, and the memory of how, in the house in Tenth
Street, Verena had rebuked her doubts, professed her own faith anew,
came back to her with a force which made the present situation appear
slightly less terrific. Nevertheless, she gave no assent to the girl's
logic; she only replied: "But you didn't meet him there; you hurried
away from New York, after I was willing you should stay. He affected you
very much there; you were not so calm when you came back to me from your
expedition to the park as you pretend to be now.
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