"
"How could you be so impulsive, so foolish!" he cried.
She was looking at him now more soberly.
"Aren't you glad?"
"Myra, you mustn't! I'll telephone David at once.. I'll--you did
this for me. I won't have it. You should have asked me----"
"It's no use; I'm not going," she said.
He dropped on the couch and hid his face in his hands.
"You're giving this up because of me."
She went to him.
"Oliver, look at me."
Slowly he raised his head.
"I don't see why----" he began, but she was so beautiful, so radiant,
that he caught his breath and faltered.
She sat down beside him.
"Ah, but you will," she said. "It's very simple, dear. Even David
understands."
"What does he think?"
"He thinks as I do," she said quickly. "He was quite relieved;
honestly, dear. He didn't want any homesick woman spoiling his songs
for him in South America. And then I suggested Frances Maury in my
place. She has a lovely voice, and she'll jump at the chance."
"I've never heard her, but I'm sure she can't sing as well as you,"
he said, with returning gloom. "And it was only for two months."
She laughed as at an unreasonable child.
"It isn't the two months, dear. It's our whole life. There would be
other partings, you see, other interests drawing me away.
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