"If you can't hear all of this and still want life with me," he said,
"there is no future for us together. I want you. I'm afraid of you and
afraid of my love for you but still I want you. I've been seeing your
face floating above the audiences in the halls where I've been at
work. I've looked at babies in the arms of workingmen's wives and
wanted to see my babe in your arms. I care more for what I am doing
than I do for you but I love you."
McGregor arose and stood over her. "I love you with my arms aching to
close about you, with my brain planning the triumph of the workers,
with all of the old perplexing human love that I had almost thought I
would never want.
"I can't bear this waiting. I can't bear this not knowing so that I
can tell Edith. I can't have my mind filled with the need of you just
as men are beginning to catch the infection of an idea and are looking
to me for clear-headed leadership. Take me or let me go and live my
life."
Margaret Ormsby looked at McGregor. When she spoke her voice was as
quiet as the voice of her father telling a workman in the shop what to
do with a broken machine.
"I am going to marry you," she said simply. "I am full of the thought
of it. I want you, want you so blindly that I think you can't
understand.
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