She took her passion with the weight of a thing ordained; she had come upon it where it waited for her, and they had gone on together, carrying the secret.

There might be farther to go, but the way could never be long.
Finlay said when he came in that the heat for May was extraordinary; and Advena reminded him that he was in a country where everything was accomplished quickly, even summer.
"Except perhaps civilization." she added.

They were both young enough to be pleased with cleverness for its specious self.
"Oh, that is slow everywhere," he observed; "but how you can say so, with every modern improvement staring you in the face--" "Electric cars and telephones! Oh, I didn't say we hadn't the products," and she laughed.

"But the thing itself, the precious thing; that never comes just by wishing, does it?
The art of indifference, the art of choice--" "If you had refinements in the beginning what would the end be ?" he demanded.

"Anaemia." "Oh, I don't quarrel with the logic of it.