‘Yes, I understand. Stella said something evidently traceable to the same impression; her voice, she said, is full of forgiveness.’
‘Excellent! And has she much to forgive, do you think?’
‘I hope not.’
‘Yet she is not exactly happy, I imagine?’
Mr. Westlake did not care to discuss the subject. The lady had recourse to Stella for some account of Mr. Mutimer.
‘He is a strong man,’ Stella said in a tone which betrayed the Socialist’s enthusiasm. ‘He stands for earth-subduing energy. I imagine him at a forge, beating fire out of iron.’
‘H’m! That’s not quite the same thing as imagining him that beautiful child’s husband. No education, I suppose?’
‘Sufficient. With more, he would no longer fill the place he does. He can speak eloquently; he is the true voice of the millions who cannot speak their own thoughts. If he were more intellectual he would become commonplace; I hope he will never see further than he does now. Isn’t a perfect type more precious than a man who is neither one thing nor another?’
‘Artistically speaking, by all means.’
‘In his case I don’t mean it artistically. He is doing a great work.’