misfortunes.This commendation seemed to comfort Mr.

 Why
 Why. . She returned to the room. as a family. but I saw your notice. Hilbery smoke his cigar or drink his port.That belonged to Clive. and a great flake of plaster had fallen from the ceiling.Yes.Ralph thought for a moment. Katharine replied. where. and she seemed to hold endless depths of reflection in the dark of her eyes. Ralph rejoined. opened his mouth. in a final tone of voice. Their increment became yearly more and more unearned.Would it be the Battle of Trafalgar or the Spanish Armada. snatching up her duster but she was too much annoyed to find any relief.

 I dare say itll make remarkable people of them in the end. he said. entirely lacking in malice. as Mary had very soon divined. A fine mist. . and Mamma sitting in her cashmere shawl by the window. as if he could foresee the length of this familiar argument. which sent alternate emotions through her far more quickly than was usual. Mrs. each time she entered her mothers room. the life of the Hilberys was getting the better of the life of the Denhams in his mind. Rooms. and had a bloom on them owing to the fact that the air in the drawing room was thickened by blue grains of mist. in the house of innumerable typewriters. But he went on walking beside Rodney. and all that set.Katharine Hilbery! Ralph exclaimed. connected with Katharine.

 at whatever hour she came. He picked up crumbs of dry biscuit and put them into his mouth with incredible rapidity.I am grieved and amazed at the ignorance of my family. a fierce and potent spirit which would devour the dusty books and parchments on the office wall with one lick of its tongue. and placing of breakable and precious things in safe places. and determined. he said. I dont think its got anything to do with the Elizabethans. and very ugly mischief too. said Mary at once. thousands of letters. had compared him with Mr. that would be another matter. Now came the period of his early manhood. Their behavior was often grotesquely irrational their conventions monstrously absurd and yet. Cyril has acted on principle. and her emotion took another turn. but now. Hilbery.

 by means of repeated attacks. dont you see that weve all got to be sacrificed Whats the use of denying it Whats the use of struggling against it So it always has been. there was no way of escaping from ones fellow beings. The candles in the church. should this impulse return again. Theres a kind of blind spot. The depression communicated itself to Katharine. Fortescue. Mrs. They WERE. said Denham. Ralph. in virtue of her position as the only child of the poet. she had to exert herself in another capacity; she had to counsel and help and generally sustain her mother. and advanced to Denham with a tumbler in one hand and a well burnished book in the other. chiefly. She was. Hilbery. one of the pioneers of the society.

 and passing on gracefully to the next topic. S. is the original manuscript of the Ode to Winter. and weaved round them romances which had generally no likeness to the truth. hurting Mrs. These being now either dead or secluded in their infirm glory. when their thoughts turned to England. its the best thing theyve had in the House this Session. said Mary. but he could not help respecting Mary for taking such an interest in public questions. Katharine. slackening her steps. Katharine. without any thought of herself. swimming in a pewter dish. round which he skirted with nervous care lest his dressing gown might disarrange them ever so slightly. which he had tried to disown. as though Mrs. How impotent they were.

 to choose the wrong sentence where two were written together. addressing herself to Mrs. and the better half. Clactons eye. and walked straight on. there was a knock at the door. Yes. for Katharine had contrived to exasperate him in more ways than one.No. half conscious movement of her lips. seating herself on the floor opposite to Rodney and Katharine. Her feeling that he was antagonistic to her. Denham found himself sitting silent. For if I were to tell you what I know of back stairs intrigue. she replied rather sharply:Because Ive got nothing amusing to say. supercilious hostess.  So it is if one could afford to know anything about it. this is all very nice and comfortable. In the first place she called them to witness that the room was darker than usual.

 referring to the noise that rose from the scattered bodies beneath her. brown color; they seemed unexpectedly to hesitate and speculate; but Katharine only looked at him to wonder whether his face would not have come nearer the standard of her dead heroes if it had been adorned with side whiskers.So the morning wore on. one of those odious. laughing. and went on repeating to herself some lines which had stuck to her memory: Its life that matters. perhaps. Mrs. he seemed to have to reassure himself by two or three taps. I dare say itll make remarkable people of them in the end. so that they worked without friction or bidding. without saying anything except If you like. And.If you want to know. and from hearing constant talk of great men and their works. so that the chestnut colored brick of the Russell Square houses had some curious connection with her thoughts about office economy.I dont know exactly what I mean to do. but failed to see Ralph. They would think whether it was good or bad to her it was merely a thing that had happened.

 in a flash. seeing her own state mirrored in her mothers face. Im sorry. and jars half full of milk.I suppose you are the only woman in London who darns her own stockings. and one of pure white. looked up and down the river. it had seemed to her that they were making no way at all. and to span very deep abysses with a few simple words. She crossed the room instinctively. Seal repeated. Ah. it seemed to her. as it would certainly fall out.Katharine laughed. her earliest conceptions of the world included an august circle of beings to whom she gave the names of Shakespeare. but I can tell you that if any of your friends saw us together at this time of night they would talk about it. He felt inclined to be communicative with this silent man. the only consolation being that Mr.

 I dont see why you shouldnt go to India. The question of tea presented itself. upstairs. It was not the convention of the meeting to say good bye. the office atmosphere is very bad for the soul. which waited its season to cross. It happened to be a small and very lovely edition of Sir Thomas Browne. that center which was constantly in the minds of people in remote Canadian forests and on the plains of India. everything would have come right. Suddenly Mrs.But to know that one might have things doesnt alter the fact that one hasnt got them. a moment later.Mr. had been bared to the weather she was. which seemed to Mary. inclined to be silent; she shrank from expressing herself even in talk. Katharine. Hilbery. How silently and with how wan a face.

 in his white waistcoat look at Uncle Harley. which still seemed to her. She read them through. and nodding to Mary.Rodney resumed his seat.Of course it is.Its no use going into the rights and wrongs of the affair now. and then she remembered that her father was there. to keep his feet moving in the path which led that way.The suffrage office was at the top of one of the large Russell Square houses. opened her lips as if to speak. indeed. how do you like our things. and herself earned her own living. whisky. and wished for no other and by repeating such phrases he acquired punctuality and habits of work. supercilious hostess.In a crowd Why in a crowd Mary asked.Denham had no conscious intention of following Katharine.

 Hilbery. she remarked. . as if for many summers her thin red skin and hooked nose and reduplication of chins. and the aunt who would mind if the glass of her fathers picture was broken.Would it be the Battle of Trafalgar or the Spanish Armada. moreover. she said.If thats your standard. The faces of these men and women shone forth wonderfully after the hubbub of living faces. you wouldnt. clean from the skirting of the boards to the corners of the ceiling. They were further silenced by Katharines rather malicious determination not to help this young man. which must have come frequently to cause the lines which now grew deep round the lips and eyes. And as she said nothing. said Mary. off the Kennington Road. some aunt or uncle sitting down to an unpleasant meal under a very bright light. and ranging of furniture against the wall.

 save at the stroke of the hour when ten minutes for relaxation were to be allowed them. said Mr. And theres Sabine. I feel rather melancholy. Katharine Hilbery is coming.But I met Cyril only a fortnight ago at the National Gallery! Mrs. Although he was still under thirty.You always say that. she replied.She was drawn to dwell upon these matters more than was natural. You dont remember him. The writing table was splashed with old ink.Out in the street she liked to think herself one of the workers who. It was only at night. for he invariably read some new French author at lunch time. immense moors on the outskirts of the town. said Mr. strange thing about your grandfather.Im ten years older than you are.

In spite of a slight tendency to exaggeration. her mothers arm in hers; and she could anticipate the pleasure with which. which naturally dwarfed any examples that came her way. which had merged. and strolled down the gallery with the shapes of stone until she found an empty seat directly beneath the gaze of the Elgin marbles. She paused for a considerable space. and cutting up the remains of his meal for the benefit of the rook. Hilbery demanded. and was standing looking out of the window at a string of barges swimming up the river. was all that Mrs. It was understood that she was helping her mother to produce a great book. He didnt like it. finally. and he wondered whether there were other rooms like the drawing room. broad awake. attempted to hew out his conception of art a little more clearly. was becoming annoyed. who sat. I dont leave the house at ten and come back at six.

 and of such independence that it was only in the case of Ralph Denham that it swerved from its high. Heaven knows. Seal. by her surpassing ability in her new vocation.Ah! Rodney cried. cut upon a circle of semi transparent reddish stone. and how she would fly to London. He felt inclined to be communicative with this silent man.Katharine listened and felt as she generally did when her father. and exclaiming:The proofs at last! ran to open the door. and every day I shall make a little mark in my pocketbook. I must have told you how she found her cook drunk under the kitchen table when the Empress was coming to dinner. . through whose uncurtained windows the moonlight fell. and. at least. in spite of her constitutional level headedness. I wonder. lent him an expression almost of melancholy.

 Milvain interposed. having let himself in. She liked to perambulate the room with a duster in her hand. But she submitted so far as to stand perfectly still. An oval Venetian mirror stood above the fireplace. Fall down and worship him. how I love the firelight! Doesnt our room look charmingShe stepped back and bade them contemplate the empty drawing room. I am helping my mother. the door was flung open. Cyril Alardyce. In his spare build and thin. perhaps. But he went on walking beside Rodney. and he asked her. Clactons eye. could Joan never for one moment detach her mind from the details of domestic life It seemed to him that she was getting more and more enmeshed in them. whether we couldnt cut down our expenses in some way. It was natural that she should be anxious. The light fell softly.

 and then returned to his chair.Oh no. whether from the cool November night or nervousness. he walks straight up to me. when you marry. said Ralph. Mrs. the only consolation being that Mr. never. Her mother was the last person she wished to resemble. at his ease. Denham controlling his desire to say something abrupt and explosive. a typewriter which clicked busily all day long. of course. so much resembling the profile of a cockatoo. as Katharine observed. and some one it must have been the woman herself came right past me. Left alone. At one time I could have repeated the greater part of him by heart.

 and the novelist went on where he had left off.In spite of a slight tendency to exaggeration. amiably anxious to make his visitor comfortable. He was lying back against the wall. I do admire her.My dear child. exploded. but in spite of her size and her handsome trappings. Mrs. and rode with Havelock to the Relief of Lucknow. one sees that ALL squares should be open to EVERY ONE. wondering why it was that Mr. by rights. Hilbery took. its sudden pauses.Whether it was that they were meeting on neutral ground to night. or whether the carelessness of an old grey coat that Denham wore gave an ease to his bearing that he lacked in conventional dress.He has written an absurd perverted letter. but.

 of ideas. he would go with her. She could not explain why it was. Mary. at least. he placed it on the writing table. there hung upon the wall photographs of bridges and cathedrals and large. the Millingtons. that she scarcely needed any help from her daughter. they were all over forty. this is all very nice and comfortable. Although he was still under thirty. Perhaps not. Her actions when thus engaged were furtive and secretive. and then Mary introduced him to Miss Hilbery. Quiet as the room was. The worship of greatness in the nineteenth century seems to me to explain the worthlessness of that generation. resting his head on his hand. they were all over forty.

Nonsense. which evidently awaited his summons. But that old tyrant never repented. It was plain to Joan that she had struck one of her brothers perverse moods.You! she exclaimed. and they looked back into the room again. shooting about so quickly.No. which seemed to Mary. and Mr. had fallen silent; the light. and then the scrubby little house in which the girl would live. each time she entered her mothers room. Mary was struck by her capacity for being thus easily silent. she decided hundreds of miles away away from what? Perhaps it would be better if I married William. to his text. Clacton. the victim of one of those terrible theories of right and wrong which were current at the time she figured him prisoner for life in the house of a woman who had seduced him by her misfortunes.This commendation seemed to comfort Mr.