She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. Gerald exchanged a puzzled glance with his friend. It was bare of any furnishings. She came to spend hours with the bastard children that the women brought, dressing and feeding the tiny ones, inventing games for the older ones. It would put the whole adventure on a broader and better footing; it seemed, indeed, almost the only possible way in which she might emerge from her rebellion with anything like success. F. You care for me a little, I know. It reverberated in the silence. It dealt from floor to ceiling and end to end with the Theory of the Forms of Life; the very duster by the blackboard was there to do its share in that work, the very washers in the taps; the room was more simply concentrated in aim even than a church.
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