ronments, but that is
all. Wasn't it you who propounded a theory about an age when men took
what they wanted by force giving way to an age in which they took what
they wanted by subtlety? Now, I believe, you want society to restrain
the man of clever wits just as it has learned to restrain the man of big
biceps. And when that is done will not man discover some other means of
taking what he wants?"

She had seated herself beside him on a divanette and the joy of her
nearness fired Grant with a very happy intoxication. It recalled that
night on the hillside when, as she had since said, she felt safe in his
protection.

"I am really very interested," she continued. "I followed the argument
at the table on Sunday with as much concern as if it had been my pet
hobby, not yours, that was under discussion. If I said little it was
because I did not wish to appear too interested."

Her amazing frankness brought Grant, figuratively, to his feet at every
turn. She seemed to have no desire to conceal her interest in him, her
attachment for him. Hers was such candor as might well be born of
the vast hillsides, the great valleys, the brooding silences of her
girlhood. Yet it seemed obvious that she must be less candid with
Transley....

"I am glad you were interested," he answered. "I was afraid I was rather
boring the company, but it was MY scheme and I had to stand up for it. I
fear I made few converts."

"You were dealing with practical men," she returned, "and practical
men are never converted to a new idea. That is one of the things I have
learned in my years of married life, Dennison. Practical men find many
ways of turning an old idea to advantage, but they never evolve new
ones. New ideas come from dreamers--theoretical fellows like you."

"The dreamer is always a lap ahead of the rest of civilization, and the
funny thing is that the rest always thinks itself much more sane than
the dreamer, out there blazing the way."

"That's not remarkable," she replied. "That's logical. The dreamer
blazes the way--proves the possibilities of his dream--and the practical
man follows it up and makes money out of it. To a practical man there is
nothing more practical than making money."

"Did I convert you?" he pursued.

"I was not in need of conversion. I have been a follower of the new
faith--an imperfect and limping follower, it is true--ever since you
first announced it."

"I believe you are laughing at me."

"Certainly not