He flung open the door and cast a quick glance round. She became more and more alive, not so much to a system of ideas as to a big diffused impulse toward change, to a great discontent with and criticism of life as it is lived, to a clamorous confusion of ideas for reconstruction—reconstruction of the methods of business, of economic development, of the rules of property, of the status of children, of the clothing and feeding and teaching of every one; she developed a quite exaggerated consciousness of a multitude of people going about the swarming spaces of London with their minds full, their talk and gestures full, their very clothing charged with the suggestion of the urgency of this pervasive project of alteration. She would never love him as she loved Capes, of course, but there are grades and qualities of love. I was ready to wager that your name would have marched with one of them. She winced as he thrust the fact at her, was about to answer, and checked herself. She glanced into his face. He seated himself before it. “I imagine,” Sir John said, “that your sister would acquaint him with it. With your permission, I will go on in my own way.
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