He looked melancholy enough, it is true. You can, too, if you wish. ’ The girl glanced up the road and turned back, annoyance in her face. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. For a time she brooded on the ideals and suggestions of the Socialists, on the vague intimations of an Endowment of Motherhood, of a complete relaxation of that intense individual dependence for women which is woven into the existing social order. The general propositions of Socialism, for example, struck her as admirable, but she certainly did not extend her admiration to any of its exponents. Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. If you don’t think it would be a social outrage, perhaps I might walk with you to your railway station.
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