‘Jacques?’ she called. Then he understood. “You’re not a man for me—not one of a sex, I mean. It is generally deficient in the qualities it prides itself upon most. ” But after that neither ideas nor phrases had come and she had fallen thinking of the events of the day. For a time she brooded on the ideals and suggestions of the Socialists, on the vague intimations of an Endowment of Motherhood, of a complete relaxation of that intense individual dependence for women which is woven into the existing social order. Probably she mistook you; probably she thought you cared. The aspect of the place, so far as he could discern through the gloom, was strange to him; but chancing to raise his eyes above the level of the surrounding habitations, he beheld, relieved against the sombre sky, the tall steeple of Saint Giles's church, the precursor of the present structure, which was not erected till some fifteen years later. If he had nothing to tell her, she had nothing to ask.
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