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'Because I have been intoxicated by the reception of my book?' René enquired gravely. 'You mean that? That is what you mean, is it not?'

'Not quite that,' she protested. That would be suggesting that you were vain indeed. No, I do not mean that you are chucking up your professorship for that reason, I can see that you are very distressed about something. All I mean is that if it were not for that other possibility of making a living in some other way, tempting you in the background, would you take this step with all that it signifies of . . . of, well, of ruin?'

There was a sofa at René's back and he transferred himself to that, sitting with his elbows upon his knees with his fingers stuck into his thick hair.

'You are quite wrong, Mary, about the part the author's vanity plays in this business. That is not your fault and I know in working it out the way you have, it was in all kindness. It was because you wanted to help me that you did your bit of psychoanalysis on me. What you have not been able to allow for has been something that you could not be expected to understand. You see, I have been driven into this situation, I have not pushed myself into it or allowed myself to be led into it, lured there by ambition. Ambition plays no part in it at all.' He jumped down into the low boat-like seat before his mother's knees.