Ellen looked down and away from him.

She trembled.
"It seems to me that the problems of life, like those in the algebra we studied at school, are for everybody who can read them, whether men or women," said she, but her voice was unsteady.
"Some of them are for men to read and struggle with for the sake of the women," said Robert.

His voice had a tender inflection.

They were passing a garden full of old-fashioned flowers, bordered with box.

The scent of the box seemed fairly to clamor over the garden fence, drowning out the smaller fragrances of the flowers, like the clamor of a mob.