rom her,
either. I'd give all I have in the world to help on a revolution against
the Russian government, and it's bound to come."

She looked from Rachel to Terence. They were both a little touched by
the sight of her remembering how lately they had been listening to evil
words about her, and Terence asked her what her scheme was, and she
explained that she was going to found a club--a club for doing things,
really doing them. She became very animated, as she talked on and on,
for she professed herself certain that if once twenty people--no, ten
would be enough if they were keen--set about doing things instead of
talking about doing them, they could abolish almost every evil that
exists. It was brains that were needed. If only people with brains--of
course they would want a room, a nice room, in Bloomsbury preferably,
where they could meet once a week. . . .

As she talked Terence could see the traces of fading youth in her face,
the lines that were being drawn by talk and excitement round her mouth
and eyes, but he did not pity her; looking into those bright, rather
hard, and very courageous eyes, he saw that she did not pity herself,
or feel any desire to exchange her own life for the more refined and
orderly lives of people like himself and St. John, although, as the
years went by, the fight would become harder and harder. Perhaps,
though, she would settle down; perhaps, after all, she would marry
Perrott. While his mind was half occupied with what she was saying,
he thought of her probable destiny, the light clouds of tobacco smoke
serving to obscure his face from her eyes.

Terence smoked and Arthur smoked and Evelyn smoked, so that the air was
full of the mist and fragrance of good tobacco. In the intervals when
no one spoke, they heard far off the low murmur of the sea, as the waves
quietly broke and spread the beach with a film of water, and withdrew to
break again. The cool green light fell through the leaves of the tree,
and there were soft crescents and diamonds of sunshine upon the plates
and the tablecloth. Mrs. Thornbury, after watching them all for a time
in silence, began to ask Rachel kindly questions--When did they all
go back? Oh, they expected her father. She must want to see her
father--there would be a great deal to tell him, and (she looked
sympathetically at Terence) he would be so happy, she felt sure. Years
ago, she continued, it might have been ten or twenty years ago, she
remembered meeti