She knew by the tightening of his lips and the nervous squaring of his broad shoulders that she had hurt him sorely.
"All right, Grace," he said with brave finality.

"I'll try to be content with your friendship and live in the hope of that 'someday.' I'm going to be selfish enough to dream that there will come a time when even your work won't be able to crowd out love." Grace made no reply.

She felt that there was nothing to be said.

The bare idea that there might come a time when her beloved work would fail to fill her life was not to be considered, even for a moment.

Love was a vague, far-distant possibility.