By the time John returned with popcorn and a large Coke, the theater had filled up with high-school kids. It was a cheerful, irresponsible, shamelessly hard-up family in the key of faded green and flattened purple, and the girls went on from the High School to the Fadden Art School and a bright, eventful life of art student dances, Socialist meetings, theatre galleries, talking about work, and even, at intervals, work; and ever and again they drew Ann Veronica from her sound persistent industry into the circle of these experiences. Her figure was, in some measure, hidden by a large scarf, and a deep hood drawn over the head contributed to her disguise; still it was evident, from her lofty bearing, that she had nothing in common, except an interest in their proceedings, with the crew by whom she was surrounded. They’re fairly intricate little things. “His stipend forbade it,” she said, and seemed to fall into a train of thought. Then Valade—was the man as big a fool as Nicholas?—tried again. But the people among whom she was now thrown through the social exertions of Miss Miniver and the Widgetts—for Teddy and Hetty came up from Morningside Park and took her to an eighteen-penny dinner in Soho and introduced her to some art students, who were also Socialists, and so opened the way to an evening of meandering talk in a studio—carried with them like an atmosphere this implication, not only that the world was in some stupid and even obvious way WRONG, with which indeed she was quite prepared to agree, but that it needed only a few pioneers to behave as such and be thoroughly and indiscriminately “advanced,” for the new order to achieve itself. Was the young lady impatient for experience? Was she adventurous? As a man of the world he did not think it becoming to accept maidenly calm as anything more than a mask. “The life of a private secretary is positively one of slavery. I thought it was a mirror at the first, for it was so very like myself. He was therefore obliged to use the iron bar, which he did with as much caution as circumstances would permit. Wood, contemptuously, "he'll never mend till he comes to Tyburn. “Ugh!” she said. "You needn't go far to do that," returned Quilt; "there he stands.
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