It was then for the first time she remembered that she had said nothing to her sister of the man in the hospital. Then Capes flittered to the hearthrug and poked the fire, stood up, and turned about. The bolder members in the House left their places to go lobbyward, grinning. But the people among whom she was now thrown through the social exertions of Miss Miniver and the Widgetts—for Teddy and Hetty came up from Morningside Park and took her to an eighteen-penny dinner in Soho and introduced her to some art students, who were also Socialists, and so opened the way to an evening of meandering talk in a studio—carried with them like an atmosphere this implication, not only that the world was in some stupid and even obvious way WRONG, with which indeed she was quite prepared to agree, but that it needed only a few pioneers to behave as such and be thoroughly and indiscriminately “advanced,” for the new order to achieve itself. “Are you in the Service?” She asked him. “Hello, Teddy!” she answered. There she would wander about in the kindly darkness.
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