She has now--these," and he nodded at a window open to the yellow west.

Advena looked with him.
"Oh, if you have a creative imagination," she said "like Wallingham's.
But even then your vision must be only political economic, material.

You can't conceive the--flowers--that will come out of all that.

And if you could it wouldn't be like having them." "And the scope of the individual, his chance of self-respect, unhampered by the traditions of class, which either deaden it or irritate it in England! His chance of significance and success! And the splendid, buoyant, unused air to breathe, and the simplicity of life, and the plenty of things!" "I am to be consoled because apples are cheap." "You are to be consoled for a hundred reasons.

Doesn't it console you to feel under your very feet the forces that are working to the immense amelioration of a not altogether undeserving people ?" "No," said Advena, rebelliously; and indeed he had been a trifle didactic to her grievance.