for which she had a natural liking； and was in process of
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turning him from Tory to Radical； after a course of public
meetings； which began by boring him acutely； and ended
by exciting him even more than they excited her。
But he was reserved； when ideas started up in his mind；
he divided them automatically into those he could discuss
with Mary； and those he must keep for himself。 She
knew this and it interested her； for she was accustomed
to find young men very ready to talk about themselves；
and had e to listen to them as one listens to children；
without any thought of herself。 But with Ralph； she
had very little of this maternal feeling； and； in consequence；
a much keener sense of her own individuality。
Late one afternoon Ralph stepped along the Strand to
an interview with a lawyer upon business。 The afternoon
light was almost over； and already streams of greenish
and yellowish artificial light were being poured into an
atmosphere which； in country lanes； would now have been
soft with the smoke of wood fires； and on both sides of
the road the shop windows were full of sparkling chains
and highly polished leather cases； which stood upon
shelves made of thick plateglass。 None of these differ
ent objects was seen separately by Denham； but from all
of them he drew an impression of stir and cheerfulness。
Thus it came about that he saw Katharine Hilbery ing
towards him； and looked straight at her； as if she were
only an illustration of the argument that was going forward
in his mind。 In this spirit he noticed the rather set
expression in her eyes； and the slight； halfconscious
movement of her lips； which； together with her height
and the distinction of her dress； made her look as if the
scurrying crowd impeded her； and her direction were different
from theirs。 He noticed this calmly； but suddenly；
as he passed her； his hands and knees began to tremble；
and his heart beat painfully。 She did not see him； and
went on repeating to herself some lines which had stuck
to her memory： “It’s life that matters； nothing but life—
the process of discovering —the everlasting and perpetual
process； not the discovery itself at all。” Thus occupied；
she did not see Denham； and he had not the courage to
stop her。 But immediately the whole scene in the Strand
wore that curious look of order and purpose which is imparted
to the most heterogeneous things when music
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sounds； and so pleasant was this impression that he was
very glad that he had not stopped her； after all。 It grew
slowly fainter； but lasted until he stood outside the
barrister’s chambers。
When his interview with the barrister was over； it was
too late to go back to the office。 His sight of Katharine
had put him queerly out of tune for a domestic evening。
Where should he go？ To walk through the streets of London
until he came to Katharine’s house； to look up at the
windows and fancy her within； seemed to him possible
for a moment； and then he rejected the plan almost with
a blush as； with a curious division of consciousness； one
plucks a flower sentimentally and throws it away； with a
blush； when it is actually picked。 No； he would go and
see Mary Datchet。 By this time she would be back from
her work。
To see Ralph appear unexpectedly in her room threw
Mary for a second off her balance。 She had been cleaning
knives in her little scullery； and when she had let him in
she went back again； and turned on the coldwater tap
to its fullest volume； and then turned it off again。 “Now；”
she thought to herself； as she screwed it tight； “I’m not
going to let these silly ideas e into my head… 。 Don’t
you think Mr。 Asquith deserves to be hanged？” she called
back into the sittingroom； and when she joined him；
drying her hands； she began to tell him about the latest
evasion on the part of the Government with respect to
the Women’s Suffrage Bill。 Ralph did not want to talk
about politics； but he could not help respecting Mary for
taking such an interest in public questions。 He looked at
her as she leant forward； poking the fire； and expressing
herself very clearly in phrases which bore distantly the
taint of the platform； and he thought； “How absurd Mary
would think me if she knew that I almost made up my
mind to walk all the way to Chelsea in order to look at
Katharine’s windows。 She wouldn’t understand it； but I
like her very much as she is。”
For some time they discussed what the women had better
do； and as Ralph became genuinely interested in the
question； Mary unconsciously let her attention wander；
and a great desire came over her to talk to Ralph about
her own feelings； or； at any rate； about something per
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sonal； so that she might see what he felt for her； but she
resisted this wish。 But she could not prevent him from
feeling her lack of interest in what he was saying； and
gradually they both became silent。 One thought after
another came up in Ralph’s mind； but they were all； in
some way； connected with Katharine； or with vague feelings
of romance and adventure such as she inspired。 But
he could not talk to Mary about such thoughts； and he
pitied her for knowing nothing of what he was feeling。
“Here；” he thought； “is where we differ from women； they
have no sense of romance。”
“Well； Mary；” he said at length； “why don’t you say something
amusing？”
His tone was certainly provoking； but； as a general rule；
Mary was not easily provoked。 This evening； however； she
replied rather sharply：
“Because I’ve got nothing amusing to say； I suppose。”
Ralph thought for a moment； and then remarked：
“You work too hard。 I don’t mean your health；” he added；
as she laughed scornfully； “I mean that you seem to me
to be getting wrapped up in your work。”
“And is that a bad thing？” she asked； shading her eyes
with her hand。
“I think it is；” he returned abruptly。
“But only a week ago you were saying the opposite。”
Her tone was defiant； but she became curiously depressed。
Ralph did not perceive it； and took this opportunity of
lecturing her； and expressing his latest views upon the
proper conduct of life。 She listened； but her main impression
was that he had been meeting some one who had
influenced him。 He was telling her that she ought to read
more； and to see that there were other points of view as
deserving of attention as her own。 Naturally； having last
seen him as he left the office in pany with Katharine；
she attributed the change to her； it was likely that
Katharine； on leaving the scene which she had so clearly
despised； had pronounced some such criticism； or suggested
it by her own attitude。 But she knew that Ralph
would never admit that he had been influenced by anybody。
“You don’t read enough； Mary；” he was saying。 “You
ought to read more poetry。”
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It was true that Mary’s reading had been rather limited
to such works as she needed to know for the sake of
exa