Please don't think,' she added rather hastily, 'that I have become a Socialist.

Indeed, I dislike the name; I find it implies so many things that I could never approve of.' Her way of speaking the last sentence would have amused a dispassionate critic, it was so distinctively the tone of Puritan maidenhood.

From lips like Adela's it is delicious to hear such moral babbling.

Oh, the gravity of conviction in a white-souled English girl of eighteen! Do you not hear her say those words: 'things that I could never approve of'?
As her companion did not immediately reply, she again raised the field-glass to her eyes and swept the prospect.
'Can you see your brother on the road ?' Hubert inquired.
'No, not yet.

There is a trap driving this way.