"I say," retorted Edgeworth Bess, with a very unfeminine imprecation, "I shan't stand any more of that nonsense. “Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint. “How gratified she must have been! If only I had known I would have made an effort to get home in time for dinner. “You did not tell me that you were going out, or I would have offered my escort. Hitherto in the world’s history there had been precursors of this Progress at great intervals, voices that had spoken and ceased, but now it was all coming on together in a rush. “Please come by. It’s a tremendous blow, of course—but it doesn’t kill me. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. Let me go my own way towards them. I've been thinking about it ever since morning. “But it makes me feel inhuman,” he added.
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