Onabeautifulfallday, adayofsimilarIndiansummertothatwhichhadseentheirlovedeclaredtheyearbefore, Martinreadhis "Lovecycle" , and, asbefore, , andnow, ashelaidthelastsheetofmanuscriptwithitsfellows, hewaitedherjudgment.

Shedelayedtospeak, andatlastshespokehaltingly, hesitatingtoframeinwordstheharshnessofherthought.

"Ithinktheyarebeautiful, verybeautiful," shesaid; "butyoucan'tsellthem, canyou? YouseewhatImean," shesaid, almostpleaded."—maybeitiswiththemarket—, dear, don', andmadeproud, andallthat—Icouldnotbeatruewomanwereitotherwise—'tyousee, Martin? Don', thethoughtofourfuture, , 'tthinkmeimmodestinthustalkingaboutourwedding, forreallyIhavemyheart, allthatIam, 'tyoutrytogetworkonanewspaper, ifyouaresoboundupinyourwriting? Whynotbecomeareporter?—forawhile, atleast?"

"Itwouldspoilmystyle," washisanswer, inalow, monotonousvoice."YouhavenoideahowI'veworkedforstyle."

"Butthosestoriettes," sheargued."'ttheyspoilyourstyle?"

"No, , jaded, 'sworkisallhackfrommorningtillnight, , thelifeofthemoment, withneitherpastnorfuture, andcertainlywithoutthoughtofanystylebutreportorialstyle, , justasmystyleistakingform, crystallizing, , everystoriette, everywordofeverystoriette, wasaviolationofmyself, ofmyself-respect, , 'Love-cycle'! Thecreativejoyinitsnoblestform! Thatwascompensationforeverything."

—, studiedaboutit, intheuniversityinthecourseofearningherBachelorshipofArts; butshewasnotoriginal, notcreative, andallmanifestationsofcultureonherpartwerebutharpingsoftheharpingsofothers.