bushes.

"It's not worth it," was the burthen of the voice. "You'd better get
yourself a Millie, Ponderevo, and then you wouldn't feel so upset."

"No," I said decidedly, "that's not my way."

A thread of smoke ascended from Ewart for a while, like smoke from an
altar.

"Everything's a muddle, and you think it isn't. Nobody knows where
we are--because, as a matter of fact we aren't anywhere. Are women
property--or are they fellow-creatures? Or a sort of proprietary
goddesses? They're so obviously fellow-creatures. You believe in the
goddess?"

"No," I said, "that's not my idea."

"What is your idea?"

"Well"

"H'm," said Ewart, in my pause.

"My idea," I said, "is to meet one person who will belong to me--to whom
I shall belong--body and soul. No half-gods! Wait till she comes. If she
comes at all.... We must come to each other young and pure."

"There's no such thing as a pure person or an impure person.... Mixed to
begin with."

This was so manifestly true that it silenced me altogether.

"And if you belong to her and she to you, Ponderevo--which end's the
head?"

I made no answer except an impatient "oh!"

For a time we smoked in silence....

"Did I tell you, Ponderevo, of a wonderful discovery I've made?" Ewart
began presently.

"No," I said, "what is it?"

"There's no Mrs. Grundy."

"No?"

"No! Practically not. I've just thought all that business out. She's
merely an instrument, Ponderevo. She's borne the blame. Grundy's a man.
Grundy unmasked. Rather lean and out of sorts. Early middle age. With
bunchy black whiskers and a worried eye. Been good so far, and it's
fretting him! Moods! There's Grundy in a state of sexual panic, for
example,--'For God's sake cover it up! They get together--they get
together! It's too exciting! The most dreadful things are happening!'
Rushing about--long arms going like a windmill. 'They must be kept
apart!' Starts out for an absolute obliteration of everything absolute
separations. One side of the road for men, and the other for women, and
a hoarding--without posters between them. Every boy and girl to be sewed
up in a sack and sealed, just the head and hands and feet out until
twenty-one. Music abolished, calico garments for the lower animals!
Sparrows to be suppressed--ab-so-lutely."

I laughed abruptly.

"Well, that's Mr. Grundy in one mood--and it puts Mrs. Grundy--She's a
much-maligned person, Ponderevo--a rake at heart--and it puts her in a
most p