That was a fine ambition to work towards a greater London, a greater, finer, truer world, and whether you were politician or artist or journalist or merchant or novelist or clerk or philanthropist, still by your working honestly you would deserve your place in that company.
If she could have some share in such things, then her miserable doubts and forebodings would vanish in a vision too bright and glorious to contain them—
As she walked her face glowed and her body moved as though it could continue thus, swinging through the clear air, for all time.
She determined that on this very evening she would tell Roddy about Breton. Whatever might be the result life in the future should be clear of Beaminster confusions. She would even ask Roddy to help her about Breton, to influence, perhaps, her grandmother with regard to him—
Then, in a few days, Nita Raseley would be gone, and, afterwards, she would discipline all her wit and energy towards establishing a fine relationship with Roddy.
Something had, throughout all these months, been wrong; she would discover where that wrong lay—She would curb her own impatience, would fling herself into his interests, would learn the things that Roddy wanted from her and give them to him—
Then, as the sun sank lower and the yellow shadows crept up the sky, she felt desolate and lonely. Vigour left her—She had descended now into the valley and had come to the deserted house with the stark frowning trees. This place, she had heard, had in the eighteenth century been a private mad-house, and now behind its darkened windows she could have fancied shapes and down the wind the echo of voices.
She fought with all her might against a great tide of loneliness that was now sweeping up about her. There had always been so many people around her and yet she had always been lonely. Even May and Dr. Christopher had not helped her there. She had a sense now of all the people in all the world who were waiting for the other people who could understand them; they were always missing one another, so near sometimes, sometimes touching, and then, after all, going through life alone.
Those were the people with feelings and emotions—and as for the people without them, of what use was life to them?
Either way, except for the fortunate way, Life was a futile business.