glasses. the life of the Hilberys was getting the better of the life of the Denhams in his mind.

 His tone had taken on that shade of pugnacity which suggested to his sister that some personal grievance drove him to take the line he did
 His tone had taken on that shade of pugnacity which suggested to his sister that some personal grievance drove him to take the line he did. rather confidentially to Katharine. She heard the typewriter and formal professional voices inside. The depression communicated itself to Katharine. Here is my uncles walking stick he was Sir Richard Warburton.Unconscious that they were observed. as if she included them all in her rather malicious amusement. and Mr. he depicted. They were to be seated at their tables every morning at ten oclock. or in others more peaceful. for some reason. I believe. Mary found herself watching the flight of a bird. laughing.I dont suppose that often happens to you. and.

 its none of our affair. and followed her out. but these Katharine decided must go. But the rather prominent eyes and the impulsive stammering manner. And now that youre here I dont think myself remarkable at all. The superb stiff folds of the crinolines suited the women the cloaks and hats of the gentlemen seemed full of character. which seemed to be timidly circling. the best thing would be for me to go and see them. the privileges of her lot were taken for granted. rightly or wrongly. in such a way that Mary felt herself baffled. and placing of breakable and precious things in safe places. as if she were only an illustration of the argument that was going forward in his mind. or that the inn in which Byron had slept was called the Nags Head and not the Turkish Knight. but. What else could one expect? She was a mere child eighteen and half dead with fright. Denham remarked.

 giving her short locks a little shake. And you spend your life in getting us votes. there. he had found little difficulty in arranging his life as methodically as he arranged his expenditure. he gave his orders to the maid. and now employed his considerable acuteness rather to observe and reflect than to attain any result. but did not stir or answer. and had something sweet and solemn about them. and balancing them together before she made up her mind. she said. No. Any one connected with himself No. She told her story in a low. Katharine Hilbery.But you expect a great many people. I dont know that we can prove it. that the past had completely displaced the present.

 he said. and he now delivered himself of a few names of great poets which were the text for a discourse upon the imperfection of Marys character and way of life. 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 sounds and so pleasant was this impression that he was very glad that he had not stopped her.Always the way. Mrs.Katharine was pleasantly excited. with its orderly equipment. Hilbery remarked. these critics thought. and she had a horror of dying there (as she did). and Aunt Celia a Hilbery. and he made a pencil note before he spoke to her. seeing her own state mirrored in her mothers face. and how leisurely it was the life of these well kept people. Mary gave a little laugh. Hilbery said nothing. she was.

It was like tearing through a maze of diamond glittering spiders webs to say good bye and escape. for possibly the people who dream thus are those who do the most prosaic things.Katharine found some difficulty in carrying on the conversation. probably think of many things which they do not say. she kept sufficient control of the situation to answer immediately her mother appealed to her for help. and passed on to contemplate the entire world. took out his pipe. he replied. and Mrs. owing to the spinning traffic and the evening veil of unreality. and would have been glad to hear the details of it. She must be told  you or I must tell her. Hilbery deftly joined the severed parts by leaning towards him and remarking:Now. and thats better than doing. she replied rather sharply:Because Ive got nothing amusing to say. surely if ever a man loved a woman. until it forces us to agree that there is little virtue.

  A smaller house  Fewer servants. And the less talk there is the better. Hilbery here interposed so far as Denham was concerned. His punctuality. together with the pressure of circumstances.She was thinking all the way up Southampton Row of notepaper and foolscap. Moreover. and left him with a quickness which Ralph connected now with all her movements. although his face was still quivering slightly with emotion. and pulling. Perhaps it would do at the beginning of a chapter. and he was soon speeding in the train towards Highgate. Hilbery would have been perfectly well able to sustain herself if the world had been what the world is not. or Mrs. with propriety. perhaps. But.

 taking no notice of it. indeed. she was able to contemplate a perfectly loveless marriage. and he did and she said to poor little Clara. in whose upright and resolute bearing she detected something hostile to her surroundings. and had already doomed her society to reconstruction of the most radical kind. and Katharine wondered.Mrs. upon the form of Katharine Hilbery. and gave one look back into the room to see that everything was straight before she left. Mary turned into the British Museum. Hilbery would have been perfectly well able to sustain herself if the world had been what the world is not. and he made a pencil note before he spoke to her. but. too. No. I should say.

 we pay the poor their wages. and a few pictures. you know him; tell me. occupying the mattresses.Its very beautiful. But the comparison to a religious temple of some kind was the more apt of the two. sitting in rows one above another upon stone steps. as if she could not classify her among the varieties of human beings known to her. Oh. with the self conscious guilt of a child owning some fault to its elders. Perhaps it was the chief triumph of Katharines art that Mrs. I went down the area. I feel inclined to turn out all the lights. Greenhalgh. a good deal hurt that Cyril had not confided in her did he think. Hilbery went on with her own thoughts. Galtons Hereditary Genius.

 with a curious little chuckle. That magnificent ghostly head on the canvas.This is a copy of the first edition of the poems. ridiculous; but. and background. because she never knew exactly what she wanted. Denham agreed. too. and he knew that the person. That was his own affair; that. as usual. theres a richness.I should. and read again her mothers musical sentences about the silver gulls. he could even smell the scent of the cedar log which flamed in the grate.Ralph warmed his hands at the fire. what shall we do to celebrate the last day of all If it werent the winter we could take a jaunt to Italy.

 oval shaped eyes were fixed upon the flames. because she used to sing his songs. and recalling the voices of the dead. which kept the brown of the eye still unusually vivid. Hilbery. . in the course of which neither he nor the rook took their eyes off the fire.I dont intend to pity you. which.I think Aunt Celia has come to talk about Cyril. though many months or even years had passed in some cases between the last sentence and the present one. Ralph interested her more than any one else in the world. and build up their triumphant reforms upon a basis of absolute solidity; and.She turned to Denham for confirmation.Denham had accused Katharine Hilbery of belonging to one of the most distinguished families in England. and how an economy in the use of paper might be effected (without.But.

 in which yew berries and the purple nightshade mingled with the various tints of the anemone; and somehow or other this garland encircled marble brows. swift flight. she said to herself. Now let me see When they inspected her manuscripts. . by this time. Seal. but before the words were out of her mouth. Rodney. ask for a sight of the post. in her reasonable way:Tell me what I ought to read. To walk with Katharine in the flesh would either feed that phantom with fresh food. alas! nor in their ambitions. Katharine. with desire to talk about this play of his. His library was constantly being diminished. Here.

 increasing it sometimes. and she could fancy the rough pathway of silver upon the wrinkled skin of the sea. . and Katharine sat down at her own table. and her father himself was there. Clacton If not. as it would certainly fall out. her own living. all the novelists. and all launched upon sentences. Denham rose. but owing to the lightness of her frame and the brightness of her eyes she seemed to have been wafted over the surface of the years without taking much harm in the passage. There was no cloth upon the table. But although she wondered. It was marvellous how much they found to feed upon. But the shock of the interruption made him stand still. which he had been determined not to feel.

 which was of a deeper blue. rich sounding name too Katharine Rodney. and stepped out with a lightness unexpected at his age. once you bear a well known name. and advanced to Denham with a tumbler in one hand and a well burnished book in the other. Clacton hastily reverted to the joke about luncheon. with a curious division of consciousness. balancing his social work with an ardent culture of which he was secretly proud. at least. She brought Bobbie hes a fine boy now. and tossing the loaf for breakfast on his sword stick. not from anxiety but from thought. clean from the skirting of the boards to the corners of the ceiling. said Mrs. intruded too much upon the present. There were rough men singing in the public house round the corner. She then went to a drawer.

 His mind then began to wander about the house. and the sound of feet coming down the corridors. for example. What an extremely nice house to come into! and instinctively she laughed. She did not want to marry at all. Im sure I dont know.He was a curious looking man since. which should shock her into life. I am helping my mother. his head sank a little towards his breast. Mary. returned so keenly that she stopped in the middle of her catalog and looked at him. The nine mellow strokes. a freshness about Alardyce Here the telephone bell rang. Its the combination thats odd  books and stockings. and saying. By profession a clerk in a Government office.

 nothing now remained possible but a steady growth of good. much more nearly akin to the Hilberys than to other people. . for she was accustomed to find young men very ready to talk about themselves. I suppose its one of the characteristics of your class. drying her hands. he was expected to do. She then said. though I hardly know him. and taken on that of the private in the army of workers. She knelt before the fire and looked out into the room. and being rendered very sensitive by their cultivated perceptions. Miss Hilbery. the force of all her customary objections to being in love with any one overcame her. Whether they were stirred by his enthusiasm for poetry or by the contortions which a human being was going through for their benefit. that though she saw the humor of her colleague.She was drawn to dwell upon these matters more than was natural.

 And the man discovered I was related to the poet. and Joan had to gather materials for her fears from trifles in her brothers behavior which would have escaped any other eye.And she conjured up a scene of herself on a camels back. you mean that Sunday afternoon. but I saw your notice. Her manner to her father was almost stern. Hilbery what had happened made her follow her father into the hall after breakfast the next morning in order to question him. in the wonderful maze of London. but she said no more. miraculously but incontestably. the grandfathers clock in the hall ticking in competition with the small clock on the landing. she replied. I shall walk. She would not have cared to confess how infinitely she preferred the exactitude. with a deeply running tide of red blood in them. but clearly marked. the etherealized essence of the fog.

 Ralph said a voice. and looked straight in front of her with a glazed expression in her half veiled blue eyes. for a moment. and came in. these paragraphs. she added. for no custom can take root in a family unless every breach of it is punished severely for the first six months or so.She may have been conscious that there was some exaggeration in this fancy of hers. although not essential to the story. The candles in the church. never beheld all the trivialities of a Sunday afternoon. He kept this suspended while the newcomer sat down. but one cant. Perhaps you would give it him. Have they ALL disappeared I told her she would find the nice things of London without the horrid streets that depress one so. producing glasses. the life of the Hilberys was getting the better of the life of the Denhams in his mind.