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h　other　on　to　steal；　and　on　their　lips　appeared　the　faintest　of　faint　smiles。　　It　was　as　though　those　lips　were　saying：　〃Yes；　but　we　are　not　quite　animals！〃

Hilary　got　up　and　sat　down　on　his　bed。　　Blanca　stayed　in　the　chair；　looking　straight　before　her；　utterly　inert；　her　head　thrown　back；　her　white　throat　gleaming；　on　her　lips　and　in　her　eyes　that　flickering　smile。　　Not　a　word　more；　nor　a　look；　passed　between　them。

Then　rising；　without　noise；　she　passed　behind　him　and　went　out。

Hilary　had　a　feeling　in　his　mouth　as　though　he　had　been　chewing　ashes。　　And　a　phraseas　phrases　sometimes　fill　the　spirit　of　a　man　without　rhyme　or　reasonkept　forming　on　his　lips：　〃The　house　of　harmony！〃

Presently　he　went　to　her　door；　and　stood　there　listening。　　He　could　hear　no　sound　whatever。　　If　she　had　been　crying　if　she　had　been　laughingit　would　have　been　better　than　this　silence。　　He　put　his　hands　up　to　his　ears　and　ran　down…stairs。




CHAPTER　XIII

SOUND　IN　THE　NIGHT

He　passed　his　study　door；　and　halted　at　Mr。　Stone's；　the　thought　of　the　old　man；　so　steady　and　absorbed　in　the　face　of　all　external　things；　refreshed　him。

Still　in　his　brown　woollen　gown；　Mr。　Stone　was　sitting　with　his　eyes　fixed　on　something　in　the　corner；　whence　a　little　perfumed　steam　was　rising。

〃Shut　the　door；〃　he　said；　〃I　am　making　cocoa；　will　you　have　a　cup？〃

〃Am　I　disturbing　you？〃　asked　Hilary。

Mr。　Stone　looked　at　him　steadily　before　answering：

〃If　I　work　after　cocoa；　I　find　it　clogs　the　liver。〃

〃Then；　if　you'll　let　me；　sir；　I'll　stay　a　little。〃

〃It　is　boiling；〃　said　Mr。　Stone。　　He　took　the　saucepan　off　the　flame；　and；　distending　his　frail　cheeks；　blew。　　Then；　while　the　steam　mingled　with　his　frosty　beard；　he　brought　two　cups　from　a　cupboard；　filled　one　of　them；　and　looked　at　Hilary。

〃I　should　like　you；〃　he　said；　〃to　hear　three　or　four　pages　I　have　just　completed；　you　may　perhaps　be　able　to　suggest　a　word　or　two。〃

He　placed　the　saucepan　back　on　the　stove；　and　grasped　the　cup　he　had　filled。

〃I　will　drink　my　cocoa；　and　read　them　to　you。〃

Going　to　the　desk；　he　stood；　blowing　at　the　cup。

Hilary　turned　up　the　collar　of　his　coat　against　the　night　wind　which　was　visiting　the　room；　and　glanced　at　the　empty　cup；　for　he　was　rather　hungry。　　He　heard　a　curious　sound：　Mr。　Stone　was　blowing　his　own　tongue。　　In　his　haste　to　read；　he　had　drunk　too　soon　and　deeply　of　the　cocoa。

〃I　have　burnt　my　mouth；〃　he　said。

Hilary　moved　hastily　towards　him：　〃Badly？　　Try　cold　milk；　sir。〃

Mr。　Stone　lifted　the　cup。

〃There　is　none；〃　he　said；　and　drank　again。

'What　would　I　not　give；'　thought　Hilary；　'to　have　his　singleness　of　heart！'

There　was　the　sharp　sound　of　a　cup　set　down。　　Then；　out　of　a　rustling　of　papers；　a　sort　of　droning　rose：

〃'The　Proletariatwith　a　cynicism　natural　to　those　who　really　are　in　want；　and　even　amongst　their　leaders　only　veiled　when　these　attained　a　certain　position　in　the　public　eyedesired　indeed　the　wealth　and　leisure　of　their　richer　neighbours；　but　in　their　long　night　of　struggle　with　existence　they　had　only　found　the　energy　to　formulate　their　pressing　needs　from　day　to　day。　　They　were　a　heaving；　surging　sea　of　creatures；　slowly；　without　consciousness　or　real　guidance；　rising　in　long　tidal　movements　to　set　the　limits　of　the　shore　a　little　farther　back；　and　cast　afresh　the　form　of　social　life；　and　on　its　pea…green　bosom　'〃　　Mr。　Stone　paused。　　〃She　has　copied　it　wrong；〃　he　said；　〃the　word　is　'seagreen。'　　'And　on　its　sea…green　bosom　sailed　a　fleet　of　silver　cockle…shells；　wafted　by　the　breath　of　those　not　in　themselves　driven　by　the　wind　of　need。　　The　voyage　of　these　silver　cockle…shells；　all　heading　across　each　other's　bows；　was；　in　fact；　the　advanced　movement　of　that　time。　　In　the　stern　of　each　of　these　little　craft；　blowing　at　the　sails；　was　seated　a　by…product　of　the　accepted　system。　　These　by…products　we　should　now　examine。

Mr。　Stone　paused；　and　looked　into　his　cup。　　There　were　some　grounds　in　it。　　He　drank　them；　and　went　on：

〃'The　fratricidal　principle　of　the　survival　of　the　fittest；　which　in　those　days　was　England's　moral　teaching；　had　made　the　country　one　huge　butcher's　shop。　　Amongst　the　carcasses　of　countless　victims　there　had　fattened　and　grown　purple　many　butchers；　physically　strengthened　by　the　smell　of　blood　and　sawdust。　　These　had　begotten　many　children。　　Following　out　the　laws　of　Nature　providing　against　surfeit；　a　proportion　of　these　children　were　born　with　a　feeling　of　distaste　for　blood　and　sawdust；　many　of　them；　compelled　for　the　purpose　of　making　money　to　follow　in　their　fathers'　practices；　did　so　unwillingly；　some；　thanks　to　their　fathers'　butchery；　were　in　a　position　to　abstain　from　practising；　but　whether　in　practice　or　at　leisure；　distaste　for　the　scent　of　blood　and　sawdust　was　the　common　feature　that　distinguished　them。　　Qualities　hitherto　but　little　known；　and　generally　despisednot；　as　we　shall　see；　without　some　reasonwere　developed　in　them。　　Self…consciousness；　aestheticism；　a　dislike　for　waste；　a　hatred　of　injustice；　theseor　some　one　of　these；　when　coupled　with　that　desire　natural　to　men　throughout　all　ages　to　accomplish　somethingconstituted　the　motive　forces　which　enabled　them　to　work　their　bellows。　　In　practical　affairs　those　who　were　under　the　necessity　of　labouring　were　driven；　under　the　then　machinery　of　social　life；　to　the　humaner　and　less　exacting　kinds　of　butchery；　such　as　the　Arts；　Education；　the　practice　of　Religions　and　Medicine；　and　the　paid　representation　of　their　fellow…creatures。　Those　not　so　driven　occupied　themselves　in　observing　and　complaining　of　the　existing　state　of　thing。　　Each　year　saw　more　of　their　silver　cockleshells　putting　out　from　port；　and　the　cheeks　of　those　who　blew　the　sails　more　violently　distended。　　Looking　back　on　that　pretty　voyage；　we　see　the　reason　why　those　ships　were　doomed　never　to　move；　but；　seated　on　the　sea…green　bosom　of　that　sea；　to　heave　up　and　down；　heading　across　each　other's　bows　in　the　self…same　place　for　ever。　That　reason；　in　few　words；　was　this：　〃The　man　who　blew　should　have　been　in　the　sea；　not　on　the　ship。'〃

The　droning　ceased。　　Hilary　saw　that　Mr。　Stone　was　staring　fixedly　at　his　sheet　of　paper；　as　though　the　merits　of　this　last　sentence　were　surprising　him。　　The　droning　instantly　began　again：　〃'In　social　effort；　as　in　the　physical　processes　of　Nature；　there　had　ever　been　a　single　fertilising　agentthe　mysterious　and　wonderful　attraction　known　as　Love。　　To　thisthat　merging　of　one　being　in　anotherhad　been　due　all　the　progressive　variance　of　form；　known　by　man　under　the　name　of　Life。　　It　was　this　merger；　this　mysterious；　unconscious　Love；　which　was　lacking　to　the　windy　efforts　of　those　who　tried　to　sail　that　fleet。　　They　were　full　of　reason；　conscience；　horror；　full　of　impatience；　contempt；　revolt；　but　they　did　not　love　the　masses　of　their　fellow…men。　　They　could　not　fling　themselves　into　the　sea。　Their　hearts　were　glowing；　but　the　wind　which　made　them　glow　was　not　the　salt　and　universal　zephyr：　it　was　the　desert　wind　of　scorn。　　As　with　the　flowering　of　the　aloe…treeso　long　awaited；　so　strange　and　swift　when　once　it　comesman　had　yet　to　wait　for　his　delirious　impulse　to　Universal　Brotherhood；　and　the　forgetfulness　of　Self。'〃

Mr。　Stone　had　finished；　and　stood　gazing　at　his　visitor　with　eyes　that　clearly　saw　beyond　him。　　Hilary　could　not　meet　those　eyes；　he　kept　his　own　fixed　on　the　empty　cocoa　cup。　　It　was　not；　in　fact；　usual　for　those　who　heard　Mr。　Stone　read　his　manuscript　to　look　him　in　the　face。　　He　stood　thus　absorbed　so　long　that　Hilary　rose　at　last；　and　glanced　into　the　saucepan。　　There　was　no　cocoa　in　it。　　Mr。　Stone　had　only　made　enough　for　one。　　He　had　meant　it　for　his　visitor；　but　self…forgetfulness　had　supervened。

〃You　know　what　happens　to　the　aloe；　sir；　when　it　has　flowered？〃　asked　Hilary　with　malice。

Mr。　Stone　moved；　but　did　not　answer。

〃It　dies；〃　said　Hilary。

〃No；〃　said　Mr。　Stone；　〃it　is　at　peace。〃

〃When　is　self　at　peace；　sir？　　The　individual　is　surely　as　immortal　as　the　universal。　　That　is　the　eternal　comedy　of　life。〃

〃What　is？〃　　said　Mr。　Stone。

〃The　fight　or　game　between　the　two。〃

Mr。　Stone　stood　a　moment　looking　wistfully　at　his　son…in…law。　　He　laid　down　the　sheet　of　manuscript。　　〃It　is　time　for　me　to　do　my　exercises。〃　　So　saying；　he　undid　the　tasselled　cord　tied　round　the　middle　of　his　gown。

Hilary　hastened　to　the　door。　　From　that　point　of　vantage　he　looked　back。

Divested　of　his　gown　and　turned　towards　the　window；　Mr。　Stone　was　already　rising　on　his　toes；　his　arms　were　extended；　his　palms　pressed　hard　together　in　the　attitude　of　prayer；　his　trousers　slowly　slipping　down。

〃One；　two；　three；　four；　five！〃　　There　was　a　sudden　sound　of　breath　escaping。。。。

In　the　corridor　upstairs；　flooded　with　moonlight　from　a　window　at　the　end；　Hilary　stood　listening　again。　　The　only　sound　that　came　to　him　was　the　light　snoring　of　Miranda；　who　slept　in　the　bathroom；　not　caring　to　lie　too　near　to　anyone。　　He　went　to　his　room；　and　for　a　long　time　sat　buried　in　thought；　then；　opening　the　side　window；　he　leaned　out。　　On　the　trees　of　the　next　garden；　and　the　sloping　roofs　of　stables　and　outhouses；　the　moonlight　had　come　down　like　a　flight　of　milk…white　pigeons；　with　outspread　wings；　vibrating　faintly　as