“I know what you mean!” she cried, her eyes alight with excitement.  “All those foreigners!  I’ve felt it that something would happen, some day, it frightened me, and yet I wished that something would happen.  Only, I never would have thought of—­nitro-glycerine.”

She was unaware of the added interest in his regard.  But he answered lightly enough:—­“Oh, not only the foreigners.  Human chemicals—­you can’t play with human chemicals any more than you can play with real ones—­you’ve got to know something about chemistry.”

This remark was beyond her depth.

“Who is playing with them?” she asked.

“Everybody—­no one in particular.  Nobody seems to know much about them, yet,” he replied, and seemed disinclined to pursue the subject.  A robin with a worm in its bill was hopping across the grass; he whistled softly, the bird stopped, cocking its head and regarding them.  Suddenly, in conflict with her desire to remain indefinitely talking with this strange man, Janet felt an intense impulse to leave.  She could bear the conversation no longer, she might burst into tears—­such was the extraordinary effect he had produced on her.

“I must go,—­I’m ever so much obliged to you,” she said.

“Drop in again,” he said, as he took her trembling hand ....  When she had walked a little way she looked back over her shoulder to see him leaning idly against the post, gazing after her, and waving his hammer in friendly fashion.

For a while her feet fairly flew, and her heart beat tumultuously, keeping time with her racing thoughts.  She walked about the Common, seeing nothing, paying no attention to the passers-by, who glanced at her curiously.  But at length as she grew calmer the needs of a youthful and vigorous body became imperative, and realizing suddenly that she was tired and hungry, sought and found the little restaurant in the village below.  She journeyed back to Hampton pondering what this man had said to her; speculating, rather breathlessly, whether he had been impelled to conversation by a natural kindness and courtesy, or whether he really had discovered something in her worthy of addressing, as he implied.  Resentment burned in her breast, she became suddenly blinded by tears:  she might never see him again, and if only she were “educated” she might know him, become his friend.  Even in this desire she was not conventional, and in the few moments of their contact he had developed rather than transformed what she meant by “education.”  She thought of it not as knowledge reeking of books and schools, but as the acquirement of the freemasonry which he so evidently possessed, existence on terms of understanding, confidence, and freedom with nature; as having the world open up to one like a flower filled with colour and life.  She thought of the robin, of the tree whose secrets he had learned, of a mental range including even that medley of human beings amongst whom she lived.  And the fact that something of his meaning had eluded her grasp made her rebel all the more bitterly against the lack of a greater knowledge ....