III. ‘You, soldiers,’ she yelled. 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. She spoke with a certain odd deliberation carefully chosen words which fell like drops of ice upon the man who sat listening. The pause lengthened, and he had the satisfaction of seeing despair melt the set mockery of Spurlock's mouth. Her anger parlayed with her confusion, as she realized that the new marriage was about as optional as the first one and her hunger was growing inside her like a weed. Torment! And so Ruth discovered him. She confronted him with his own double-standard. "Close the wicket, Austin," vociferated Ireton, in an authoritative tone. He winced from the wasp-like sting.
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