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She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky. She became more and more alive, not so much to a system of ideas as to a big diffused impulse toward change, to a great discontent with and criticism of life as it is lived, to a clamorous confusion of ideas for reconstruction—reconstruction of the methods of business, of economic development, of the rules of property, of the status of children, of the clothing and feeding and teaching of every one; she developed a quite exaggerated consciousness of a multitude of people going about the swarming spaces of London with their minds full, their talk and gestures full, their very clothing charged with the suggestion of the urgency of this pervasive project of alteration. " "So it seems," observed the woollen-draper, "and for every one else, too. ” “It seems to me that much of a woman’s difficulties are economic. It was not the type of household where one could come and go at all hours, for this she was glad. E. “How could he call except in your absence, as you are never at home in the afternoon. But her heart kept on sinking. She knew the truth of it all right. “How crude you are, Anna!” she exclaimed with a little sigh. At the door to the kitchen, he called out, ‘Pottiswick!’ The old man came out, shoving his chin in the air and glaring. Why had Ruth married him? A penniless outcast, for she must have known he was that.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 09-09-2024 23:06:35
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