It only needed a persistent effort of thought, stimulated in this strange way by the crowd and the noise, to climb the crest of existence and see it all laid out once and for ever.

Already her suffering as an individual was left behind her.

Of this process, which was to her so full of effort, which comprised infinitely swift and full passages of thought, leading from one crest to another, as she shaped her conception of life in this world, only two articulate words escaped her, muttered beneath her breath--"Not happiness--not happiness." She sat down on a seat opposite the statue of one of London's heroes upon the Embankment, and spoke the words aloud.

To her they represented the rare flower or splinter of rock brought down by a climber in proof that he has stood for a moment, at least, upon the highest peak of the mountain.

She had been up there and seen the world spread to the horizon.