He seemed in some curious way to have assumed a larger shape, to have become more imposing.

His attitude had a strange and indefinable influence upon her.
She was suddenly conscious of her youth and inexperience--bitterly and rebelliously conscious of them--before he had even opened his lips.

Her own words sounded crude and unconvincing.
"I am not one of the flamboyant orators of the Socialist party, Lady Elisabeth," he said, "nor am I one of those who are able to see much joy or very much hopefulness in life under present conditions.

For every word I have spoken and every line I have written, I accept the full and complete responsibility." "Those men who were murdered in Chicago, murdered at your instigation because they tried to break the strike--what of them ?" He looked at her as one might have looked at a child.
"Their lives were a necessary sacrifice in a good cause," he declared.
"Does one think now of the sea of blood through which France once purged herself?
Believe me, young lady, there is nothing in the world more to be avoided than this sentimental and exaggerated reverence for life.

It is born of a false ideal, artistically and actually.