’Colney may call it what he pleases.  If I read fiction, let it be fiction; airier than hard fact.  If I see a ballet, my troop of short skirts must not go stepping like pavement policemen.  I can’t read dull analytical stuff or “stylists” when I want action—­if I’m to give my mind to a story.  I can supply the reflections.  I’m English—­if Colney ’s right in saying we always come round to the story with the streak of supernaturalism.

I don’t ask for bloodshed:  that’s what his “brandy” means.’

’But Mr. Durance is right, we require a shedding; I confess I expect it where there’s love; it’s part of the balance, and justifies one’s excitement.  How otherwise do you get any real crisis?  I must read and live something unlike this flat life around us.’

’There’s the Adam life and the Macadam life, Fenellan says.  Pass it in books, but in life we can have quite enough excitement coming out of our thoughts.  No brandy there!  And no fine name for personal predilections or things done in domino!’ Victor said, with his very pleasant face, pressing her hand, to keep the act of long holding it in countenance and bring it to a well-punctuated conclusion:  thinking involuntarily of the other fair woman, whose hand was his, and who betrayed a beaten visage despite—­or with that poor kind of—­trust in her captain.  But the thought was not guilty of drawing comparisons.  ’This is one that I could trust, as captain or mate,’ he pressed the hand again before dropping it.

’You judge entirely by the surface, if you take me for a shifty person at the trial,’ said Lady Grace.

Skepsey entered the room with one of his packets, and she was reminded of trains and husbands.

She left Victor uncomfortably rufed:  and how? for she had none of the physical charms appealing peculiarly to the man who was taken with grandeur of shape.  She belonged rather to the description physically distasteful to him.

It is a critical comment on a civilization carelessly distilled from the jealous East, when visits of fair women to City offices can have this effect.  If the sexes are separated for an hour, the place where one is excluded or not common to see, becomes inflammable to that appearing spark.  He does outrage to a bona Dea:  she to the monasticism of the Court of Law:  and he and she awaken unhallowed emotions.  Supposing, however, that western men were to de-orientalize their gleeful notions of her, and dis-Turk themselves by inviting the woman’s voluble tongue to sisterly occupation there in the midst of the pleading Court, as in the domestic circle:  very soon would her eyes be harmless:  unless directed upon us with intent.