He awoke, strangely content. The touch of her hands was pleasurable. Sorrows and danger and disappointment she had known. His legs were fine and strong, he told her that he had been a warrior in ancient times, to which she snorted in disgust. Go to it. “Ye Gods!” she said at last. I’ve never met any one like you. Take my word for it, your troubles are over. . ‘Lord,’ he uttered, glancing about with a disparaging eye. 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.
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