ey get no pleasure out of
their work...."

"We could shorten the hours in factories," Henry suggested.

"If you do that, you admit that the thing is rotten, and can only be
endured in short shifts!" she retorted. "And who wants his hours
reduced? A healthy man wants to work as long as he can stand up. I don't
want my hours reduced. I'll go on working until I drop ... but I
wouldn't work for two seconds if I didn't like the job!" She turned
again to Henry. "Why don't you write a book exposing the factory system.
It would be much more useful than all this lovey-dovey stuff. I'd give
the world for a book like that ... as good as Tolstoy's 'War and Peace'
or 'Dickens's 'Oliver Twist'!..."

3

Mary had not spoken at all while Rachel harangued them on the question
of the factory system, but that was not surprising, for Rachel had not
given any of them a chance to say more than two or three words. In
Ninian's sitting-room, when Gilbert turned to her and asked her what she
thought of factories, she blushed a little, conscious that they had all
turned to look at her, and answered that she had never seen a factory.

"Never seen a factory!" Rachel exclaimed, and was off again in
denunciation.

Henry went and sat beside Mary while Rachel told tales of sweaters that
caused Mrs. Graham to cry out with pain.

"Mary!" he said to her under his breath.

"Yes, Quinny," she answered, turning towards him and speaking as softly
as he had spoken.

He fumbled for words. "It's ... it's awfully nice to see you again," he
said.

"It's nice to see you all again," she replied.

"You're ... you're so different," he went on.

"Am I?" She paused a moment, and then, smiling at him, said, "So are
you."

"Am I very different?" he asked.

"In some ways. You're quite famous now, aren't you?"

"Famous?" he said vaguely.

"Yes. Your novels...."

He laughed. "Oh, dear no, not anything like famous!"

"Well-known, then."

"Moderately well-known. That's all. But what's the point?"

"Well, that's the point," she replied. "You were only 'Quinny' before,
but now you're the moderately well-known novelist, and I'm afraid of
you...."

"Don't be absurd, Mary!"

"But I am, Quinny. I read a review of one of your books in some paper,
and it called you a very wise person, and said you knew a great deal
about human nature or something of that sort. Well, one feels rather
awful in the presence of a person like that. At least, I do!"

He fel