She became more and more alive, not so much to a system of ideas as to a big diffused impulse toward change, to a great discontent with and criticism of life as it is lived, to a clamorous confusion of ideas for reconstruction—reconstruction of the methods of business, of economic development, of the rules of property, of the status of children, of the clothing and feeding and teaching of every one; she developed a quite exaggerated consciousness of a multitude of people going about the swarming spaces of London with their minds full, their talk and gestures full, their very clothing charged with the suggestion of the urgency of this pervasive project of alteration. Her aunt was a long time before she answered. “I saw—they knocked off your fetters yesterday. Dieu du ciel, but where was Gerald? On the move again, she found herself standing before one of the mirrors, gazing into her own countenance without seeing it. "What a wonderful colour!" she exclaimed. "Why do you laugh?" she asked gravely. " "What means this idle boasting, villain?" said Thames. It would not be possible otherwise to live in daily contact with this level-eyed, lovely girl without loving her.
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