I don't quite know what they do.

Only that was what I felt when I lived with them.

It was very real." She reviewed their little journeys to and fro, to Walworth, to charwomen with bad legs, to meetings for this and that, their minute acts of charity and unselfishness which flowered punctually from a definite view of what they ought to do, their friendships, their tastes and habits; she saw all these things like grains of sand falling, falling through innumerable days, making an atmosphere and building up a solid mass, a background.

Hewet observed her as she considered this.
"Were you happy ?" he demanded.
Again she had become absorbed in something else, and he called her back to an unusually vivid consciousness of herself.
"I was both," she replied.

"I was happy and I was miserable.