"Rubbish. I believe in you. If you have a chance to work out your
salvation you will be a big man. If you are hectored to death, you will
kill yourself, or compromise, and that will be the end of you."

"You see that--you understand----"

He pushed back his chair and came to her.

"You think that little you can stand between me and these things that I
must compromise with?"

She nodded at him, brightly. He leaned over, took her two small hands,
and leaned his face against them.

"Thank you," he said, simply; "but I won't have it."

"Why not?"

"Because I am not worth it. You saw me in a work fit. I'm a devil. I'm
like one possessed. I swear and rave if I am interrupted. I can't eat
nor sleep till I get the madness out of me. I am not human. I am not
normal. I am not fit to live with."

"Very well, we will build a cage at the top of the house, and when you
feel a fit coming on you can go up there. I'll slip you food through a
wire door so you can't bite me, and I'll exhibit you for a fee as the
wildest genius in captivity."

"Bambi, be serious. This is no joke. This is awful!"