so dangerous; he would be, as it
were, legally recognized, and that, in itself, would make him more
careful and responsible. Whence she got this belief in the legalizing
power of the press it is difficult to say, unless that, reading
newspapers but seldom, she still took them at their own valuation, and
thought that when they said: "We shall do this," or "We must do that,"
they really were speaking for the country, and that forty-five millions
of people were deliberately going to do something, whereas, in truth,
as was known to those older than Nedda, they were speaking, and not too
conclusively at that, for single anonymous gentlemen in a hurry who
were not going to do anything. She knew that the press had power, great
power--for she was always hearing that--and it had not occurred to her
as yet to examine the composition of that power so as to discover that,
while the press certainly had a certain monopoly of expression, and
that same 'spirit of body' which makes police constables swear by one
another, it yet contained within its ring fence the sane and advisable
futility of a perfectly balanced contradiction; so that its only
functions, practically speaking, were the dissemination of news,
seven-tenths of which would have been happier in obscurity;
and--'irritation of the Dutch!' Not, of course, that the press realized
this; nor was it probable that any one would tell it, for it had
power--great power.

She caught her train--glowing outwardly from the speed of her ride, and
inwardly from the heat of adventure and the thought that at last she was
being of some use.

The only other occupants of her third-class compartment were a friendly
looking man, who might have been a sailor or other wanderer on leave,
and his thin, dried-up, black-clothed cottage woman of an old mother.
They sat opposite each other. The son looked at his mother with beaming
eyes, and she remarked: "An' I says to him, says I, I says, 'What?' I
says; so 'e says to me, he says, 'Yes,' he says; 'that's what I say,' he
says." And Nedda thought: 'What an old dear! And the son looks nice too;
I do like simple people.'

They got out at the first stop and she journeyed on alone. Taking a
taxicab from Paddington, she drove toward Gray's Inn. But now that she
was getting close she felt very nervous. How expect a busy man like Mr.
Cuthcott to spare time to come down all that way? It would be something,
though, if she could get him even to understand what w