They did not mention Lemuel's pictures, or the artists; and he scarcely spoke on the way home.
When they parted, Statira broke out crying, and would not let him kiss her.
XX.
“I'm afraid your little friend at the St. Albans isn't altogether happy of late,” said Evans toward the end of what he called one of his powwows with Sewell. Their talk had taken a vaster range than usual, and they both felt the need, that people know in dealing with abstractions, of finally getting the ground beneath their feet again.
“Ah?” asked Sewell, with a twinge that allayed his satisfaction in this. “What's the matter with him?”
“Oh, the knowledge of good and evil, I suspect.”
“I hope there's nothing wrong,” said Sewell anxiously.
“Oh no. I used the phrase because it came easily. Just what I mean is that I'm afraid his view of our social inequalities is widening and deepening, and that he experiences the dissatisfaction of people who don't command that prospect from the summit. I told you of his censure of our aristocratic constitution?”
“Yes,” said Sewell, with a smile.