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"Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" | Henry | friend, and, permission given, said:<|quote|>"Oughtn t you really to be more careful?"</|quote|>Margaret laughed, though her thoughts | might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said:<|quote|>"Oughtn t you really to be more careful?"</|quote|>Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do | very sorry," said Margaret, collecting herself. "He s a nice creature really. I cannot think what set him off. It has been most unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said:<|quote|>"Oughtn t you really to be more careful?"<... | can take my word for it, but there are very few women who could have managed him." "Oh yes," said Margaret distractedly. "Bowling him over with those long sentences was what fetched me," cried Evie. "Yes, indeed," chuckled her father; "all that part about mechanical cheerfulness --oh, fine!" "I m very sorry," said Marg... | danced at his boots and made him look ridiculous. "You were picking my brain for official information--I can prove it--I--" He blew his nose and left them. "Can I help you now?" said Mr. Wilcox, turning to Margaret. "May I have one quiet word with him in the hall?" "Helen, go after him--do anything--anything--to make t... | to get away from the fogs that are stifling us all--away past books and houses to the truth. You were looking for a real home." "I fail to see the connection," said Leonard, hot with stupid anger. "So do I." There was a pause. "You were that last Sunday--you are this to-day. Mr. Bast! I and my sister have talked you ov... | was too much occupied with puppies to notice him. "Mr. Wilcox, Mr. Ba--Must you be really? Good-bye!" "Come again," said Helen from the floor. Then Leonard s gorge arose. Why should he come again? What was the good of it? He said roundly: "No, I shan t; I knew it would be a failure." Most people would have let him go. ... | Not content with" "--pointing at Margaret--" "you can t deny it." His voice rose; he was falling into the rhythm of a scene with Jacky. "But as soon as I m useful it s a very different thing. Oh yes, send for him. Cross-question him. Pick his brains. Oh yes. Now, take me on the whole, I m a quiet fellow: I m law-abidin... | Howards End |
Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. | No speaker | really to be more careful?"<|quote|>Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen.</|quote|>"Do you realise that it | given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?"<|quote|>Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen.</|quote|>"Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she | a nice creature really. I cannot think what set him off. It has been most unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?"<|quote|>Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed af... | are very few women who could have managed him." "Oh yes," said Margaret distractedly. "Bowling him over with those long sentences was what fetched me," cried Evie. "Yes, indeed," chuckled her father; "all that part about mechanical cheerfulness --oh, fine!" "I m very sorry," said Margaret, collecting herself. "He s a n... | ridiculous. "You were picking my brain for official information--I can prove it--I--" He blew his nose and left them. "Can I help you now?" said Mr. Wilcox, turning to Margaret. "May I have one quiet word with him in the hall?" "Helen, go after him--do anything--anything--to make the noodle understand." Helen hesitated... | stifling us all--away past books and houses to the truth. You were looking for a real home." "I fail to see the connection," said Leonard, hot with stupid anger. "So do I." There was a pause. "You were that last Sunday--you are this to-day. Mr. Bast! I and my sister have talked you over. We wanted to help you; we also ... | him. "Mr. Wilcox, Mr. Ba--Must you be really? Good-bye!" "Come again," said Helen from the floor. Then Leonard s gorge arose. Why should he come again? What was the good of it? He said roundly: "No, I shan t; I knew it would be a failure." Most people would have let him go. "A little mistake. We tried knowing another c... | There! Not content with" "--pointing at Margaret--" "you can t deny it." His voice rose; he was falling into the rhythm of a scene with Jacky. "But as soon as I m useful it s a very different thing. Oh yes, send for him. Cross-question him. Pick his brains. Oh yes. Now, take me on the whole, I m a quiet fellow: I m law... | Howards End |
"Do you realise that it s all your fault?" | Margaret | thoughts still strayed after Helen.<|quote|>"Do you realise that it s all your fault?"</|quote|>she said. "You re responsible." | careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen.<|quote|>"Do you realise that it s all your fault?"</|quote|>she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young | him off. It has been most unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen.<|quote|>"Do you realise that it s all your fa... | "Oh yes," said Margaret distractedly. "Bowling him over with those long sentences was what fetched me," cried Evie. "Yes, indeed," chuckled her father; "all that part about mechanical cheerfulness --oh, fine!" "I m very sorry," said Margaret, collecting herself. "He s a nice creature really. I cannot think what set him... | can prove it--I--" He blew his nose and left them. "Can I help you now?" said Mr. Wilcox, turning to Margaret. "May I have one quiet word with him in the hall?" "Helen, go after him--do anything--anything--to make the noodle understand." Helen hesitated. "But really--" said their visitor. "Ought she to?" At once she we... | truth. You were looking for a real home." "I fail to see the connection," said Leonard, hot with stupid anger. "So do I." There was a pause. "You were that last Sunday--you are this to-day. Mr. Bast! I and my sister have talked you over. We wanted to help you; we also supposed you might help us. We did not have you her... | "Come again," said Helen from the floor. Then Leonard s gorge arose. Why should he come again? What was the good of it? He said roundly: "No, I shan t; I knew it would be a failure." Most people would have let him go. "A little mistake. We tried knowing another class--impossible." But the Schlegels had never played wit... | a quiet fellow: I m law-abiding, I don t wish any unpleasantness; but I--I--" "You," said Margaret--" "you--you--" Laughter from Evie as at a repartee. "You are the man who tried to walk by the Pole Star." More laughter. "You saw the sunrise." Laughter. "You tried to get away from the fogs that are stifling us all--awa... | Howards End |
she said. | No speaker | it s all your fault?"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"You re responsible." "I?" "This | Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom | "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"You re responsible." ... | those long sentences was what fetched me," cried Evie. "Yes, indeed," chuckled her father; "all that part about mechanical cheerfulness --oh, fine!" "I m very sorry," said Margaret, collecting herself. "He s a nice creature really. I cannot think what set him off. It has been most unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t min... | them. "Can I help you now?" said Mr. Wilcox, turning to Margaret. "May I have one quiet word with him in the hall?" "Helen, go after him--do anything--anything--to make the noodle understand." Helen hesitated. "But really--" said their visitor. "Ought she to?" At once she went. He resumed. "I would have chimed in, but ... | fail to see the connection," said Leonard, hot with stupid anger. "So do I." There was a pause. "You were that last Sunday--you are this to-day. Mr. Bast! I and my sister have talked you over. We wanted to help you; we also supposed you might help us. We did not have you here out of charity--which bores us--but because... | s gorge arose. Why should he come again? What was the good of it? He said roundly: "No, I shan t; I knew it would be a failure." Most people would have let him go. "A little mistake. We tried knowing another class--impossible." But the Schlegels had never played with life. They had attempted friendship, and they would ... | come, and it s to have my brain picked. I ask you, is it fair?" "Highly unfair," said Mr. Wilcox, drawing a gasp from Evie, who knew that her father was becoming dangerous. "There, you hear that? Most unfair, the gentleman says. There! Not content with" "--pointing at Margaret--" "you can t deny it." His voice rose; he... | Howards End |
"You re responsible." | Margaret | all your fault?" she said.<|quote|>"You re responsible."</|quote|>"I?" "This is the young | you realise that it s all your fault?" she said.<|quote|>"You re responsible."</|quote|>"I?" "This is the young man whom we were to | didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said.<|quote|>"You re responsible."</|quote|>"I?" "T... | sentences was what fetched me," cried Evie. "Yes, indeed," chuckled her father; "all that part about mechanical cheerfulness --oh, fine!" "I m very sorry," said Margaret, collecting herself. "He s a nice creature really. I cannot think what set him off. It has been most unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he... | I help you now?" said Mr. Wilcox, turning to Margaret. "May I have one quiet word with him in the hall?" "Helen, go after him--do anything--anything--to make the noodle understand." Helen hesitated. "But really--" said their visitor. "Ought she to?" At once she went. He resumed. "I would have chimed in, but I felt that... | see the connection," said Leonard, hot with stupid anger. "So do I." There was a pause. "You were that last Sunday--you are this to-day. Mr. Bast! I and my sister have talked you over. We wanted to help you; we also supposed you might help us. We did not have you here out of charity--which bores us--but because we hope... | arose. Why should he come again? What was the good of it? He said roundly: "No, I shan t; I knew it would be a failure." Most people would have let him go. "A little mistake. We tried knowing another class--impossible." But the Schlegels had never played with life. They had attempted friendship, and they would take the... | nose and left them. "Can I help you now?" said Mr. Wilcox, turning to Margaret. "May I have one quiet word with him in the hall?" "Helen, go after him--do anything--anything--to make the noodle understand." Helen hesitated. "But really--" said their visitor. "Ought she to?" At once she went. He resumed. "I would have c... | Howards End |
"I?" | Henry | she said. "You re responsible."<|quote|>"I?"</|quote|>"This is the young man | it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible."<|quote|>"I?"</|quote|>"This is the young man whom we were to warn | Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible."<|quote|>"I?"</|quote|>"This is the you... | fetched me," cried Evie. "Yes, indeed," chuckled her father; "all that part about mechanical cheerfulness --oh, fine!" "I m very sorry," said Margaret, collecting herself. "He s a nice creature really. I cannot think what set him off. It has been most unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. ... | now?" said Mr. Wilcox, turning to Margaret. "May I have one quiet word with him in the hall?" "Helen, go after him--do anything--anything--to make the noodle understand." Helen hesitated. "But really--" said their visitor. "Ought she to?" At once she went. He resumed. "I would have chimed in, but I felt that you could ... | said Leonard, hot with stupid anger. "So do I." There was a pause. "You were that last Sunday--you are this to-day. Mr. Bast! I and my sister have talked you over. We wanted to help you; we also supposed you might help us. We did not have you here out of charity--which bores us--but because we hoped there would be a co... | he come again? What was the good of it? He said roundly: "No, I shan t; I knew it would be a failure." Most people would have let him go. "A little mistake. We tried knowing another class--impossible." But the Schlegels had never played with life. They had attempted friendship, and they would take the consequences. Hel... | as I m useful it s a very different thing. Oh yes, send for him. Cross-question him. Pick his brains. Oh yes. Now, take me on the whole, I m a quiet fellow: I m law-abiding, I don t wish any unpleasantness; but I--I--" "You," said Margaret--" "you--you--" Laughter from Evie as at a repartee. "You are the man who tried ... | Howards End |
"This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" | Margaret | said. "You re responsible." "I?"<|quote|>"This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!"</|quote|>Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I | s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?"<|quote|>"This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!"</|quote|>Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I hardly consider that a fair | he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?"<|quote|>"This is the young man whom we... | me," cried Evie. "Yes, indeed," chuckled her father; "all that part about mechanical cheerfulness --oh, fine!" "I m very sorry," said Margaret, collecting herself. "He s a nice creature really. I cannot think what set him off. It has been most unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked... | said Mr. Wilcox, turning to Margaret. "May I have one quiet word with him in the hall?" "Helen, go after him--do anything--anything--to make the noodle understand." Helen hesitated. "But really--" said their visitor. "Ought she to?" At once she went. He resumed. "I would have chimed in, but I felt that you could polish... | Leonard, hot with stupid anger. "So do I." There was a pause. "You were that last Sunday--you are this to-day. Mr. Bast! I and my sister have talked you over. We wanted to help you; we also supposed you might help us. We did not have you here out of charity--which bores us--but because we hoped there would be a connect... | come again? What was the good of it? He said roundly: "No, I shan t; I knew it would be a failure." Most people would have let him go. "A little mistake. We tried knowing another class--impossible." But the Schlegels had never played with life. They had attempted friendship, and they would take the consequences. Helen ... | lives? They have never entered into mine, but into yours, we thought--Haven t we all to struggle against life s daily greyness, against pettiness, against mechanical cheerfulness, against suspicion? I struggle by remembering my friends; others I have known by remembering some place--some beloved place or tree--we thoug... | Howards End |
Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. | No speaker | Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!"<|quote|>Mr. Wilcox was annoyed.</|quote|>"I hardly consider that a | were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!"<|quote|>Mr. Wilcox was annoyed.</|quote|>"I hardly consider that a fair deduction," he said. "Obviously | said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!"<|quote|>Mr. Wilcox was annoyed.</|... | m very sorry," said Margaret, collecting herself. "He s a nice creature really. I cannot think what set him off. It has been most unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margar... | "Helen, go after him--do anything--anything--to make the noodle understand." Helen hesitated. "But really--" said their visitor. "Ought she to?" At once she went. He resumed. "I would have chimed in, but I felt that you could polish him off for yourselves--I didn t interfere. You were splendid, Miss Schlegel--absolutel... | are this to-day. Mr. Bast! I and my sister have talked you over. We wanted to help you; we also supposed you might help us. We did not have you here out of charity--which bores us--but because we hoped there would be a connection between last Sunday and other days. What is the good of your stars and trees, your sunrise... | it would be a failure." Most people would have let him go. "A little mistake. We tried knowing another class--impossible." But the Schlegels had never played with life. They had attempted friendship, and they would take the consequences. Helen retorted, "I call that a very rude remark. What do you want to turn on me li... | as soon as I m useful it s a very different thing. Oh yes, send for him. Cross-question him. Pick his brains. Oh yes. Now, take me on the whole, I m a quiet fellow: I m law-abiding, I don t wish any unpleasantness; but I--I--" "You," said Margaret--" "you--you--" Laughter from Evie as at a repartee. "You are the man wh... | Howards End |
"I hardly consider that a fair deduction," | Henry | and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed.<|quote|>"I hardly consider that a fair deduction,"</|quote|>he said. "Obviously unfair," said | the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed.<|quote|>"I hardly consider that a fair deduction,"</|quote|>he said. "Obviously unfair," said Margaret. "I was only thinking | really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed.<|quote|>"I hardly consider tha... | Margaret, collecting herself. "He s a nice creature really. I cannot think what set him off. It has been most unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though h... | anything--anything--to make the noodle understand." Helen hesitated. "But really--" said their visitor. "Ought she to?" At once she went. He resumed. "I would have chimed in, but I felt that you could polish him off for yourselves--I didn t interfere. You were splendid, Miss Schlegel--absolutely splendid. You can take ... | Bast! I and my sister have talked you over. We wanted to help you; we also supposed you might help us. We did not have you here out of charity--which bores us--but because we hoped there would be a connection between last Sunday and other days. What is the good of your stars and trees, your sunrise and the wind, if the... | failure." Most people would have let him go. "A little mistake. We tried knowing another class--impossible." But the Schlegels had never played with life. They had attempted friendship, and they would take the consequences. Helen retorted, "I call that a very rude remark. What do you want to turn on me like that for?" ... | good of your stars and trees, your sunrise and the wind, if they do not enter into our daily lives? They have never entered into mine, but into yours, we thought--Haven t we all to struggle against life s daily greyness, against pettiness, against mechanical cheerfulness, against suspicion? I struggle by remembering my... | Howards End |
he said. | No speaker | consider that a fair deduction,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"Obviously unfair," said Margaret. "I | Wilcox was annoyed. "I hardly consider that a fair deduction,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"Obviously unfair," said Margaret. "I was only thinking how tangled | though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I hardly consider that a fair deduction,"<|quote|>he said.</|quote|>"Obviou... | creature really. I cannot think what set him off. It has been most unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do ... | "But really--" said their visitor. "Ought she to?" At once she went. He resumed. "I would have chimed in, but I felt that you could polish him off for yourselves--I didn t interfere. You were splendid, Miss Schlegel--absolutely splendid. You can take my word for it, but there are very few women who could have managed h... | you over. We wanted to help you; we also supposed you might help us. We did not have you here out of charity--which bores us--but because we hoped there would be a connection between last Sunday and other days. What is the good of your stars and trees, your sunrise and the wind, if they do not enter into our daily live... | go. "A little mistake. We tried knowing another class--impossible." But the Schlegels had never played with life. They had attempted friendship, and they would take the consequences. Helen retorted, "I call that a very rude remark. What do you want to turn on me like that for?" and suddenly the drawing-room re-echoed t... | all--away past books and houses to the truth. You were looking for a real home." "I fail to see the connection," said Leonard, hot with stupid anger. "So do I." There was a pause. "You were that last Sunday--you are this to-day. Mr. Bast! I and my sister have talked you over. We wanted to help you; we also supposed you... | Howards End |
"Obviously unfair," | Margaret | a fair deduction," he said.<|quote|>"Obviously unfair,"</|quote|>said Margaret. "I was only | annoyed. "I hardly consider that a fair deduction," he said.<|quote|>"Obviously unfair,"</|quote|>said Margaret. "I was only thinking how tangled things are. | thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I hardly consider that a fair deduction," he said.<|quote|>"Obviously unfair,"</|quote... | I cannot think what set him off. It has been most unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that ... | said their visitor. "Ought she to?" At once she went. He resumed. "I would have chimed in, but I felt that you could polish him off for yourselves--I didn t interfere. You were splendid, Miss Schlegel--absolutely splendid. You can take my word for it, but there are very few women who could have managed him." "Oh yes," ... | We wanted to help you; we also supposed you might help us. We did not have you here out of charity--which bores us--but because we hoped there would be a connection between last Sunday and other days. What is the good of your stars and trees, your sunrise and the wind, if they do not enter into our daily lives? They ha... | little mistake. We tried knowing another class--impossible." But the Schlegels had never played with life. They had attempted friendship, and they would take the consequences. Helen retorted, "I call that a very rude remark. What do you want to turn on me like that for?" and suddenly the drawing-room re-echoed to a vul... | we hoped there would be a connection between last Sunday and other days. What is the good of your stars and trees, your sunrise and the wind, if they do not enter into our daily lives? They have never entered into mine, but into yours, we thought--Haven t we all to struggle against life s daily greyness, against pettin... | Howards End |
said Margaret. | No speaker | deduction," he said. "Obviously unfair,"<|quote|>said Margaret.</|quote|>"I was only thinking how | hardly consider that a fair deduction," he said. "Obviously unfair,"<|quote|>said Margaret.</|quote|>"I was only thinking how tangled things are. It s | strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I hardly consider that a fair deduction," he said. "Obviously unfair,"<|quote|>said Margaret.</|quote... | think what set him off. It has been most unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all ... | visitor. "Ought she to?" At once she went. He resumed. "I would have chimed in, but I felt that you could polish him off for yourselves--I didn t interfere. You were splendid, Miss Schlegel--absolutely splendid. You can take my word for it, but there are very few women who could have managed him." "Oh yes," said Margar... | to help you; we also supposed you might help us. We did not have you here out of charity--which bores us--but because we hoped there would be a connection between last Sunday and other days. What is the good of your stars and trees, your sunrise and the wind, if they do not enter into our daily lives? They have never e... | We tried knowing another class--impossible." But the Schlegels had never played with life. They had attempted friendship, and they would take the consequences. Helen retorted, "I call that a very rude remark. What do you want to turn on me like that for?" and suddenly the drawing-room re-echoed to a vulgar row. "You as... | state--" He paused. Ahab and Jezebel danced at his boots and made him look ridiculous. "You were picking my brain for official information--I can prove it--I--" He blew his nose and left them. "Can I help you now?" said Mr. Wilcox, turning to Margaret. "May I have one quiet word with him in the hall?" "Helen, go after ... | Howards End |
"I was only thinking how tangled things are. It s our fault mostly--neither yours nor his." | Margaret | said. "Obviously unfair," said Margaret.<|quote|>"I was only thinking how tangled things are. It s our fault mostly--neither yours nor his."</|quote|>"Not his?" "No." "Miss Schlegel, | that a fair deduction," he said. "Obviously unfair," said Margaret.<|quote|>"I was only thinking how tangled things are. It s our fault mostly--neither yours nor his."</|quote|>"Not his?" "No." "Miss Schlegel, you are too kind." "Yes, | Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I hardly consider that a fair deduction," he said. "Obviously unfair," said Margaret.<|quote|>"I was only thinking ... | set him off. It has been most unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?... | she to?" At once she went. He resumed. "I would have chimed in, but I felt that you could polish him off for yourselves--I didn t interfere. You were splendid, Miss Schlegel--absolutely splendid. You can take my word for it, but there are very few women who could have managed him." "Oh yes," said Margaret distractedly.... | you; we also supposed you might help us. We did not have you here out of charity--which bores us--but because we hoped there would be a connection between last Sunday and other days. What is the good of your stars and trees, your sunrise and the wind, if they do not enter into our daily lives? They have never entered i... | knowing another class--impossible." But the Schlegels had never played with life. They had attempted friendship, and they would take the consequences. Helen retorted, "I call that a very rude remark. What do you want to turn on me like that for?" and suddenly the drawing-room re-echoed to a vulgar row. "You ask me why ... | do is to go. But I beg to state--" He paused. Ahab and Jezebel danced at his boots and made him look ridiculous. "You were picking my brain for official information--I can prove it--I--" He blew his nose and left them. "Can I help you now?" said Mr. Wilcox, turning to Margaret. "May I have one quiet word with him in th... | Howards End |
"Not his?" | Henry | fault mostly--neither yours nor his."<|quote|>"Not his?"</|quote|>"No." "Miss Schlegel, you are | things are. It s our fault mostly--neither yours nor his."<|quote|>"Not his?"</|quote|>"No." "Miss Schlegel, you are too kind." "Yes, indeed," nodded | "This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I hardly consider that a fair deduction," he said. "Obviously unfair," said Margaret. "I was only thinking how tangled things are. It s our fault mostly--neither yours nor his."<|quote|>"Not his?"</|quo... | he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to... | that you could polish him off for yourselves--I didn t interfere. You were splendid, Miss Schlegel--absolutely splendid. You can take my word for it, but there are very few women who could have managed him." "Oh yes," said Margaret distractedly. "Bowling him over with those long sentences was what fetched me," cried Ev... | charity--which bores us--but because we hoped there would be a connection between last Sunday and other days. What is the good of your stars and trees, your sunrise and the wind, if they do not enter into our daily lives? They have never entered into mine, but into yours, we thought--Haven t we all to struggle against ... | they would take the consequences. Helen retorted, "I call that a very rude remark. What do you want to turn on me like that for?" and suddenly the drawing-room re-echoed to a vulgar row. "You ask me why I turn on you?" "Yes." "What do you want to have me here for?" "To help you, you silly boy!" cried Helen. "And don t ... | I m law-abiding, I don t wish any unpleasantness; but I--I--" "You," said Margaret--" "you--you--" Laughter from Evie as at a repartee. "You are the man who tried to walk by the Pole Star." More laughter. "You saw the sunrise." Laughter. "You tried to get away from the fogs that are stifling us all--away past books and... | Howards End |
"No." | Margaret | yours nor his." "Not his?"<|quote|>"No."</|quote|>"Miss Schlegel, you are too | It s our fault mostly--neither yours nor his." "Not his?"<|quote|>"No."</|quote|>"Miss Schlegel, you are too kind." "Yes, indeed," nodded Evie, | the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I hardly consider that a fair deduction," he said. "Obviously unfair," said Margaret. "I was only thinking how tangled things are. It s our fault mostly--neither yours nor his." "Not his?"<|quote|>"No."</|quote|... | his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to warn again... | could polish him off for yourselves--I didn t interfere. You were splendid, Miss Schlegel--absolutely splendid. You can take my word for it, but there are very few women who could have managed him." "Oh yes," said Margaret distractedly. "Bowling him over with those long sentences was what fetched me," cried Evie. "Yes,... | us--but because we hoped there would be a connection between last Sunday and other days. What is the good of your stars and trees, your sunrise and the wind, if they do not enter into our daily lives? They have never entered into mine, but into yours, we thought--Haven t we all to struggle against life s daily greyness... | take the consequences. Helen retorted, "I call that a very rude remark. What do you want to turn on me like that for?" and suddenly the drawing-room re-echoed to a vulgar row. "You ask me why I turn on you?" "Yes." "What do you want to have me here for?" "To help you, you silly boy!" cried Helen. "And don t shout." "I ... | remembering some place--some beloved place or tree--we thought you one of these." "Of course, if there s been any misunderstanding," mumbled Leonard, "all I can do is to go. But I beg to state--" He paused. Ahab and Jezebel danced at his boots and made him look ridiculous. "You were picking my brain for official inform... | Howards End |
"Miss Schlegel, you are too kind." | Henry | nor his." "Not his?" "No."<|quote|>"Miss Schlegel, you are too kind."</|quote|>"Yes, indeed," nodded Evie, a | s our fault mostly--neither yours nor his." "Not his?" "No."<|quote|>"Miss Schlegel, you are too kind."</|quote|>"Yes, indeed," nodded Evie, a little contemptuously. "You behave much | young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I hardly consider that a fair deduction," he said. "Obviously unfair," said Margaret. "I was only thinking how tangled things are. It s our fault mostly--neither yours nor his." "Not his?" "No."<|quote|>"Miss Schleg... | mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to warn against t... | polish him off for yourselves--I didn t interfere. You were splendid, Miss Schlegel--absolutely splendid. You can take my word for it, but there are very few women who could have managed him." "Oh yes," said Margaret distractedly. "Bowling him over with those long sentences was what fetched me," cried Evie. "Yes, indee... | because we hoped there would be a connection between last Sunday and other days. What is the good of your stars and trees, your sunrise and the wind, if they do not enter into our daily lives? They have never entered into mine, but into yours, we thought--Haven t we all to struggle against life s daily greyness, agains... | the consequences. Helen retorted, "I call that a very rude remark. What do you want to turn on me like that for?" and suddenly the drawing-room re-echoed to a vulgar row. "You ask me why I turn on you?" "Yes." "What do you want to have me here for?" "To help you, you silly boy!" cried Helen. "And don t shout." "I don t... | his boots and made him look ridiculous. "You were picking my brain for official information--I can prove it--I--" He blew his nose and left them. "Can I help you now?" said Mr. Wilcox, turning to Margaret. "May I have one quiet word with him in the hall?" "Helen, go after him--do anything--anything--to make the noodle ... | Howards End |
"Yes, indeed," | Evie | Schlegel, you are too kind."<|quote|>"Yes, indeed,"</|quote|>nodded Evie, a little contemptuously. | his." "Not his?" "No." "Miss Schlegel, you are too kind."<|quote|>"Yes, indeed,"</|quote|>nodded Evie, a little contemptuously. "You behave much too well | warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I hardly consider that a fair deduction," he said. "Obviously unfair," said Margaret. "I was only thinking how tangled things are. It s our fault mostly--neither yours nor his." "Not his?" "No." "Miss Schlegel, you are too kind."<|quote|>"Ye... | speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him,... | t interfere. You were splendid, Miss Schlegel--absolutely splendid. You can take my word for it, but there are very few women who could have managed him." "Oh yes," said Margaret distractedly. "Bowling him over with those long sentences was what fetched me," cried Evie. "Yes, indeed," chuckled her father; "all that par... | a connection between last Sunday and other days. What is the good of your stars and trees, your sunrise and the wind, if they do not enter into our daily lives? They have never entered into mine, but into yours, we thought--Haven t we all to struggle against life s daily greyness, against pettiness, against mechanical ... | that a very rude remark. What do you want to turn on me like that for?" and suddenly the drawing-room re-echoed to a vulgar row. "You ask me why I turn on you?" "Yes." "What do you want to have me here for?" "To help you, you silly boy!" cried Helen. "And don t shout." "I don t want your patronage. I don t want your te... | would have chimed in, but I felt that you could polish him off for yourselves--I didn t interfere. You were splendid, Miss Schlegel--absolutely splendid. You can take my word for it, but there are very few women who could have managed him." "Oh yes," said Margaret distractedly. "Bowling him over with those long sentenc... | Howards End |
nodded Evie, a little contemptuously. | No speaker | are too kind." "Yes, indeed,"<|quote|>nodded Evie, a little contemptuously.</|quote|>"You behave much too well | his?" "No." "Miss Schlegel, you are too kind." "Yes, indeed,"<|quote|>nodded Evie, a little contemptuously.</|quote|>"You behave much too well to people, and then they | the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I hardly consider that a fair deduction," he said. "Obviously unfair," said Margaret. "I was only thinking how tangled things are. It s our fault mostly--neither yours nor his." "Not his?" "No." "Miss Schlegel, you are too kind." "Yes, indeed,"<|quote|>n... | an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--loo... | You were splendid, Miss Schlegel--absolutely splendid. You can take my word for it, but there are very few women who could have managed him." "Oh yes," said Margaret distractedly. "Bowling him over with those long sentences was what fetched me," cried Evie. "Yes, indeed," chuckled her father; "all that part about mecha... | between last Sunday and other days. What is the good of your stars and trees, your sunrise and the wind, if they do not enter into our daily lives? They have never entered into mine, but into yours, we thought--Haven t we all to struggle against life s daily greyness, against pettiness, against mechanical cheerfulness,... | very rude remark. What do you want to turn on me like that for?" and suddenly the drawing-room re-echoed to a vulgar row. "You ask me why I turn on you?" "Yes." "What do you want to have me here for?" "To help you, you silly boy!" cried Helen. "And don t shout." "I don t want your patronage. I don t want your tea. I wa... | brain for official information--I can prove it--I--" He blew his nose and left them. "Can I help you now?" said Mr. Wilcox, turning to Margaret. "May I have one quiet word with him in the hall?" "Helen, go after him--do anything--anything--to make the noodle understand." Helen hesitated. "But really--" said their visit... | Howards End |
"You behave much too well to people, and then they impose on you. I know the world and that type of man, and as soon as I entered the room I saw you had not been treating him properly. You must keep that type at a distance. Otherwise they forget themselves. Sad, but true. They aren t our sort, and one must face the fac... | Henry | nodded Evie, a little contemptuously.<|quote|>"You behave much too well to people, and then they impose on you. I know the world and that type of man, and as soon as I entered the room I saw you had not been treating him properly. You must keep that type at a distance. Otherwise they forget themselves. Sad, but true. T... | are too kind." "Yes, indeed," nodded Evie, a little contemptuously.<|quote|>"You behave much too well to people, and then they impose on you. I know the world and that type of man, and as soon as I entered the room I saw you had not been treating him properly. You must keep that type at a distance. Otherwise they forge... | and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I hardly consider that a fair deduction," he said. "Obviously unfair," said Margaret. "I was only thinking how tangled things are. It s our fault mostly--neither yours nor his." "Not his?" "No." "Miss Schlegel, you are too kind." "Yes, indeed," nodded Evie, a little contemptuously.<... | given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I ... | splendid. You can take my word for it, but there are very few women who could have managed him." "Oh yes," said Margaret distractedly. "Bowling him over with those long sentences was what fetched me," cried Evie. "Yes, indeed," chuckled her father; "all that part about mechanical cheerfulness --oh, fine!" "I m very sor... | days. What is the good of your stars and trees, your sunrise and the wind, if they do not enter into our daily lives? They have never entered into mine, but into yours, we thought--Haven t we all to struggle against life s daily greyness, against pettiness, against mechanical cheerfulness, against suspicion? I struggle... | you want to turn on me like that for?" and suddenly the drawing-room re-echoed to a vulgar row. "You ask me why I turn on you?" "Yes." "What do you want to have me here for?" "To help you, you silly boy!" cried Helen. "And don t shout." "I don t want your patronage. I don t want your tea. I was quite happy. What do you... | different thing. Oh yes, send for him. Cross-question him. Pick his brains. Oh yes. Now, take me on the whole, I m a quiet fellow: I m law-abiding, I don t wish any unpleasantness; but I--I--" "You," said Margaret--" "you--you--" Laughter from Evie as at a repartee. "You are the man who tried to walk by the Pole Star."... | Howards End |
"Ye--es." | Margaret | one must face the fact."<|quote|>"Ye--es."</|quote|>"Do admit that we should | aren t our sort, and one must face the fact."<|quote|>"Ye--es."</|quote|>"Do admit that we should never have had the outburst | the world and that type of man, and as soon as I entered the room I saw you had not been treating him properly. You must keep that type at a distance. Otherwise they forget themselves. Sad, but true. They aren t our sort, and one must face the fact."<|quote|>"Ye--es."</|quote|>"Do admit that we should never have had th... | unfair," said Margaret. "I was only thinking how tangled things are. It s our fault mostly--neither yours nor his." "Not his?" "No." "Miss Schlegel, you are too kind." "Yes, indeed," nodded Evie, a little contemptuously. "You behave much too well to people, and then they impose on you. I know the world and that type of... | cannot think what set him off. It has been most unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it... | place--some beloved place or tree--we thought you one of these." "Of course, if there s been any misunderstanding," mumbled Leonard, "all I can do is to go. But I beg to state--" He paused. Ahab and Jezebel danced at his boots and made him look ridiculous. "You were picking my brain for official information--I can prov... | do you want to unsettle me for?" He turned to Mr. Wilcox. "I put it to this gentleman. I ask you, sir, am I to have my brain picked?" Mr. Wilcox turned to Margaret with the air of humorous strength that he could so well command. "Are we intruding, Miss Schlegel? Can we be of any use, or shall we go?" But Margaret ignor... | anger. "So do I." There was a pause. "You were that last Sunday--you are this to-day. Mr. Bast! I and my sister have talked you over. We wanted to help you; we also supposed you might help us. We did not have you here out of charity--which bores us--but because we hoped there would be a connection between last Sunday a... | Howards End |
"Do admit that we should never have had the outburst if he was a gentleman." | Henry | must face the fact." "Ye--es."<|quote|>"Do admit that we should never have had the outburst if he was a gentleman."</|quote|>"I admit it willingly," said | t our sort, and one must face the fact." "Ye--es."<|quote|>"Do admit that we should never have had the outburst if he was a gentleman."</|quote|>"I admit it willingly," said Margaret, who was pacing up | world and that type of man, and as soon as I entered the room I saw you had not been treating him properly. You must keep that type at a distance. Otherwise they forget themselves. Sad, but true. They aren t our sort, and one must face the fact." "Ye--es."<|quote|>"Do admit that we should never have had the outburst if... | said Margaret. "I was only thinking how tangled things are. It s our fault mostly--neither yours nor his." "Not his?" "No." "Miss Schlegel, you are too kind." "Yes, indeed," nodded Evie, a little contemptuously. "You behave much too well to people, and then they impose on you. I know the world and that type of man, and... | think what set him off. It has been most unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all ... | beloved place or tree--we thought you one of these." "Of course, if there s been any misunderstanding," mumbled Leonard, "all I can do is to go. But I beg to state--" He paused. Ahab and Jezebel danced at his boots and made him look ridiculous. "You were picking my brain for official information--I can prove it--I--" H... | you want to unsettle me for?" He turned to Mr. Wilcox. "I put it to this gentleman. I ask you, sir, am I to have my brain picked?" Mr. Wilcox turned to Margaret with the air of humorous strength that he could so well command. "Are we intruding, Miss Schlegel? Can we be of any use, or shall we go?" But Margaret ignored ... | and other days. What is the good of your stars and trees, your sunrise and the wind, if they do not enter into our daily lives? They have never entered into mine, but into yours, we thought--Haven t we all to struggle against life s daily greyness, against pettiness, against mechanical cheerfulness, against suspicion? ... | Howards End |
"I admit it willingly," | Margaret | if he was a gentleman."<|quote|>"I admit it willingly,"</|quote|>said Margaret, who was pacing | never have had the outburst if he was a gentleman."<|quote|>"I admit it willingly,"</|quote|>said Margaret, who was pacing up and down the room. | saw you had not been treating him properly. You must keep that type at a distance. Otherwise they forget themselves. Sad, but true. They aren t our sort, and one must face the fact." "Ye--es." "Do admit that we should never have had the outburst if he was a gentleman."<|quote|>"I admit it willingly,"</|quote|>said Marg... | yours nor his." "Not his?" "No." "Miss Schlegel, you are too kind." "Yes, indeed," nodded Evie, a little contemptuously. "You behave much too well to people, and then they impose on you. I know the world and that type of man, and as soon as I entered the room I saw you had not been treating him properly. You must keep ... | t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man w... | any misunderstanding," mumbled Leonard, "all I can do is to go. But I beg to state--" He paused. Ahab and Jezebel danced at his boots and made him look ridiculous. "You were picking my brain for official information--I can prove it--I--" He blew his nose and left them. "Can I help you now?" said Mr. Wilcox, turning to ... | this gentleman. I ask you, sir, am I to have my brain picked?" Mr. Wilcox turned to Margaret with the air of humorous strength that he could so well command. "Are we intruding, Miss Schlegel? Can we be of any use, or shall we go?" But Margaret ignored him. "I m connected with a leading insurance company, sir. I receive... | for it, but there are very few women who could have managed him." "Oh yes," said Margaret distractedly. "Bowling him over with those long sentences was what fetched me," cried Evie. "Yes, indeed," chuckled her father; "all that part about mechanical cheerfulness --oh, fine!" "I m very sorry," said Margaret, collecting ... | Howards End |
said Margaret, who was pacing up and down the room. | No speaker | gentleman." "I admit it willingly,"<|quote|>said Margaret, who was pacing up and down the room.</|quote|>"A gentleman would have kept | outburst if he was a gentleman." "I admit it willingly,"<|quote|>said Margaret, who was pacing up and down the room.</|quote|>"A gentleman would have kept his suspicions to himself." Mr. | been treating him properly. You must keep that type at a distance. Otherwise they forget themselves. Sad, but true. They aren t our sort, and one must face the fact." "Ye--es." "Do admit that we should never have had the outburst if he was a gentleman." "I admit it willingly,"<|quote|>said Margaret, who was pacing up a... | his?" "No." "Miss Schlegel, you are too kind." "Yes, indeed," nodded Evie, a little contemptuously. "You behave much too well to people, and then they impose on you. I know the world and that type of man, and as soon as I entered the room I saw you had not been treating him properly. You must keep that type at a distan... | changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to wa... | "all I can do is to go. But I beg to state--" He paused. Ahab and Jezebel danced at his boots and made him look ridiculous. "You were picking my brain for official information--I can prove it--I--" He blew his nose and left them. "Can I help you now?" said Mr. Wilcox, turning to Margaret. "May I have one quiet word wit... | you, sir, am I to have my brain picked?" Mr. Wilcox turned to Margaret with the air of humorous strength that he could so well command. "Are we intruding, Miss Schlegel? Can we be of any use, or shall we go?" But Margaret ignored him. "I m connected with a leading insurance company, sir. I receive what I take to be an ... | by the Pole Star." More laughter. "You saw the sunrise." Laughter. "You tried to get away from the fogs that are stifling us all--away past books and houses to the truth. You were looking for a real home." "I fail to see the connection," said Leonard, hot with stupid anger. "So do I." There was a pause. "You were that ... | Howards End |
"A gentleman would have kept his suspicions to himself." | Margaret | up and down the room.<|quote|>"A gentleman would have kept his suspicions to himself."</|quote|>Mr. Wilcox watched her with | said Margaret, who was pacing up and down the room.<|quote|>"A gentleman would have kept his suspicions to himself."</|quote|>Mr. Wilcox watched her with a vague uneasiness. "What did | a distance. Otherwise they forget themselves. Sad, but true. They aren t our sort, and one must face the fact." "Ye--es." "Do admit that we should never have had the outburst if he was a gentleman." "I admit it willingly," said Margaret, who was pacing up and down the room.<|quote|>"A gentleman would have kept his susp... | nodded Evie, a little contemptuously. "You behave much too well to people, and then they impose on you. I know the world and that type of man, and as soon as I entered the room I saw you had not been treating him properly. You must keep that type at a distance. Otherwise they forget themselves. Sad, but true. They aren... | an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--loo... | to state--" He paused. Ahab and Jezebel danced at his boots and made him look ridiculous. "You were picking my brain for official information--I can prove it--I--" He blew his nose and left them. "Can I help you now?" said Mr. Wilcox, turning to Margaret. "May I have one quiet word with him in the hall?" "Helen, go aft... | Wilcox turned to Margaret with the air of humorous strength that he could so well command. "Are we intruding, Miss Schlegel? Can we be of any use, or shall we go?" But Margaret ignored him. "I m connected with a leading insurance company, sir. I receive what I take to be an invitation from these--ladies" (he drawled th... | over. We wanted to help you; we also supposed you might help us. We did not have you here out of charity--which bores us--but because we hoped there would be a connection between last Sunday and other days. What is the good of your stars and trees, your sunrise and the wind, if they do not enter into our daily lives? T... | Howards End |
Mr. Wilcox watched her with a vague uneasiness. | No speaker | kept his suspicions to himself."<|quote|>Mr. Wilcox watched her with a vague uneasiness.</|quote|>"What did he suspect you | room. "A gentleman would have kept his suspicions to himself."<|quote|>Mr. Wilcox watched her with a vague uneasiness.</|quote|>"What did he suspect you of?" "Of wanting to make | They aren t our sort, and one must face the fact." "Ye--es." "Do admit that we should never have had the outburst if he was a gentleman." "I admit it willingly," said Margaret, who was pacing up and down the room. "A gentleman would have kept his suspicions to himself."<|quote|>Mr. Wilcox watched her with a vague uneas... | well to people, and then they impose on you. I know the world and that type of man, and as soon as I entered the room I saw you had not been treating him properly. You must keep that type at a distance. Otherwise they forget themselves. Sad, but true. They aren t our sort, and one must face the fact." "Ye--es." "Do adm... | you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I hardly consider that a ... | his boots and made him look ridiculous. "You were picking my brain for official information--I can prove it--I--" He blew his nose and left them. "Can I help you now?" said Mr. Wilcox, turning to Margaret. "May I have one quiet word with him in the hall?" "Helen, go after him--do anything--anything--to make the noodle ... | strength that he could so well command. "Are we intruding, Miss Schlegel? Can we be of any use, or shall we go?" But Margaret ignored him. "I m connected with a leading insurance company, sir. I receive what I take to be an invitation from these--ladies" (he drawled the word). "I come, and it s to have my brain picked.... | polish him off for yourselves--I didn t interfere. You were splendid, Miss Schlegel--absolutely splendid. You can take my word for it, but there are very few women who could have managed him." "Oh yes," said Margaret distractedly. "Bowling him over with those long sentences was what fetched me," cried Evie. "Yes, indee... | Howards End |
"What did he suspect you of?" | Henry | her with a vague uneasiness.<|quote|>"What did he suspect you of?"</|quote|>"Of wanting to make money | to himself." Mr. Wilcox watched her with a vague uneasiness.<|quote|>"What did he suspect you of?"</|quote|>"Of wanting to make money out of him." "Intolerable brute! | face the fact." "Ye--es." "Do admit that we should never have had the outburst if he was a gentleman." "I admit it willingly," said Margaret, who was pacing up and down the room. "A gentleman would have kept his suspicions to himself." Mr. Wilcox watched her with a vague uneasiness.<|quote|>"What did he suspect you of?... | you. I know the world and that type of man, and as soon as I entered the room I saw you had not been treating him properly. You must keep that type at a distance. Otherwise they forget themselves. Sad, but true. They aren t our sort, and one must face the fact." "Ye--es." "Do admit that we should never have had the out... | though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I hardly consider that a fair deduction," he said. "Obviously unfair," said... | were picking my brain for official information--I can prove it--I--" He blew his nose and left them. "Can I help you now?" said Mr. Wilcox, turning to Margaret. "May I have one quiet word with him in the hall?" "Helen, go after him--do anything--anything--to make the noodle understand." Helen hesitated. "But really--" ... | we intruding, Miss Schlegel? Can we be of any use, or shall we go?" But Margaret ignored him. "I m connected with a leading insurance company, sir. I receive what I take to be an invitation from these--ladies" (he drawled the word). "I come, and it s to have my brain picked. I ask you, is it fair?" "Highly unfair," sai... | truth. You were looking for a real home." "I fail to see the connection," said Leonard, hot with stupid anger. "So do I." There was a pause. "You were that last Sunday--you are this to-day. Mr. Bast! I and my sister have talked you over. We wanted to help you; we also supposed you might help us. We did not have you her... | Howards End |
"Of wanting to make money out of him." | Margaret | did he suspect you of?"<|quote|>"Of wanting to make money out of him."</|quote|>"Intolerable brute! But how were | with a vague uneasiness. "What did he suspect you of?"<|quote|>"Of wanting to make money out of him."</|quote|>"Intolerable brute! But how were you to benefit?" "Exactly. How | that we should never have had the outburst if he was a gentleman." "I admit it willingly," said Margaret, who was pacing up and down the room. "A gentleman would have kept his suspicions to himself." Mr. Wilcox watched her with a vague uneasiness. "What did he suspect you of?"<|quote|>"Of wanting to make money out of h... | that type of man, and as soon as I entered the room I saw you had not been treating him properly. You must keep that type at a distance. Otherwise they forget themselves. Sad, but true. They aren t our sort, and one must face the fact." "Ye--es." "Do admit that we should never have had the outburst if he was a gentlema... | Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I hardly consider that a fair deduction," he said. "Obviously unfair," said Margaret. "I was only thinking how tang... | information--I can prove it--I--" He blew his nose and left them. "Can I help you now?" said Mr. Wilcox, turning to Margaret. "May I have one quiet word with him in the hall?" "Helen, go after him--do anything--anything--to make the noodle understand." Helen hesitated. "But really--" said their visitor. "Ought she to?"... | be of any use, or shall we go?" But Margaret ignored him. "I m connected with a leading insurance company, sir. I receive what I take to be an invitation from these--ladies" (he drawled the word). "I come, and it s to have my brain picked. I ask you, is it fair?" "Highly unfair," said Mr. Wilcox, drawing a gasp from Ev... | cheerfulness --oh, fine!" "I m very sorry," said Margaret, collecting herself. "He s a nice creature really. I cannot think what set him off. It has been most unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you reall... | Howards End |
"Intolerable brute! But how were you to benefit?" | Henry | make money out of him."<|quote|>"Intolerable brute! But how were you to benefit?"</|quote|>"Exactly. How indeed! Just horrible, | you of?" "Of wanting to make money out of him."<|quote|>"Intolerable brute! But how were you to benefit?"</|quote|>"Exactly. How indeed! Just horrible, corroding suspicion. One touch of | if he was a gentleman." "I admit it willingly," said Margaret, who was pacing up and down the room. "A gentleman would have kept his suspicions to himself." Mr. Wilcox watched her with a vague uneasiness. "What did he suspect you of?" "Of wanting to make money out of him."<|quote|>"Intolerable brute! But how were you t... | I entered the room I saw you had not been treating him properly. You must keep that type at a distance. Otherwise they forget themselves. Sad, but true. They aren t our sort, and one must face the fact." "Ye--es." "Do admit that we should never have had the outburst if he was a gentleman." "I admit it willingly," said ... | your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I hardly consider that a fair deduction," he said. "Obviously unfair," said Margaret. "I was only thinking how tangled things are. It s our fault mostly... | and left them. "Can I help you now?" said Mr. Wilcox, turning to Margaret. "May I have one quiet word with him in the hall?" "Helen, go after him--do anything--anything--to make the noodle understand." Helen hesitated. "But really--" said their visitor. "Ought she to?" At once she went. He resumed. "I would have chimed... | But Margaret ignored him. "I m connected with a leading insurance company, sir. I receive what I take to be an invitation from these--ladies" (he drawled the word). "I come, and it s to have my brain picked. I ask you, is it fair?" "Highly unfair," said Mr. Wilcox, drawing a gasp from Evie, who knew that her father was... | "Yes, indeed," chuckled her father; "all that part about mechanical cheerfulness --oh, fine!" "I m very sorry," said Margaret, collecting herself. "He s a nice creature really. I cannot think what set him off. It has been most unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might spea... | Howards End |
"Exactly. How indeed! Just horrible, corroding suspicion. One touch of thought or of goodwill would have brushed it away. Just the senseless fear that does make men intolerable brutes." | Margaret | how were you to benefit?"<|quote|>"Exactly. How indeed! Just horrible, corroding suspicion. One touch of thought or of goodwill would have brushed it away. Just the senseless fear that does make men intolerable brutes."</|quote|>"I come back to my | of him." "Intolerable brute! But how were you to benefit?"<|quote|>"Exactly. How indeed! Just horrible, corroding suspicion. One touch of thought or of goodwill would have brushed it away. Just the senseless fear that does make men intolerable brutes."</|quote|>"I come back to my original point. You ought to | willingly," said Margaret, who was pacing up and down the room. "A gentleman would have kept his suspicions to himself." Mr. Wilcox watched her with a vague uneasiness. "What did he suspect you of?" "Of wanting to make money out of him." "Intolerable brute! But how were you to benefit?"<|quote|>"Exactly. How indeed! Ju... | not been treating him properly. You must keep that type at a distance. Otherwise they forget themselves. Sad, but true. They aren t our sort, and one must face the fact." "Ye--es." "Do admit that we should never have had the outburst if he was a gentleman." "I admit it willingly," said Margaret, who was pacing up and d... | "This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I hardly consider that a fair deduction," he said. "Obviously unfair," said Margaret. "I was only thinking how tangled things are. It s our fault mostly--neither yours nor his." "Not his?" "No." "Miss S... | said Mr. Wilcox, turning to Margaret. "May I have one quiet word with him in the hall?" "Helen, go after him--do anything--anything--to make the noodle understand." Helen hesitated. "But really--" said their visitor. "Ought she to?" At once she went. He resumed. "I would have chimed in, but I felt that you could polish... | a leading insurance company, sir. I receive what I take to be an invitation from these--ladies" (he drawled the word). "I come, and it s to have my brain picked. I ask you, is it fair?" "Highly unfair," said Mr. Wilcox, drawing a gasp from Evie, who knew that her father was becoming dangerous. "There, you hear that? Mo... | cannot think what set him off. It has been most unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it... | Howards End |
"I come back to my original point. You ought to be more careful, Miss Schlegel. Your servants ought to have orders not to let such people in." | Henry | does make men intolerable brutes."<|quote|>"I come back to my original point. You ought to be more careful, Miss Schlegel. Your servants ought to have orders not to let such people in."</|quote|>She turned to him frankly. | Just the senseless fear that does make men intolerable brutes."<|quote|>"I come back to my original point. You ought to be more careful, Miss Schlegel. Your servants ought to have orders not to let such people in."</|quote|>She turned to him frankly. "Let me explain exactly why | did he suspect you of?" "Of wanting to make money out of him." "Intolerable brute! But how were you to benefit?" "Exactly. How indeed! Just horrible, corroding suspicion. One touch of thought or of goodwill would have brushed it away. Just the senseless fear that does make men intolerable brutes."<|quote|>"I come back ... | the fact." "Ye--es." "Do admit that we should never have had the outburst if he was a gentleman." "I admit it willingly," said Margaret, who was pacing up and down the room. "A gentleman would have kept his suspicions to himself." Mr. Wilcox watched her with a vague uneasiness. "What did he suspect you of?" "Of wanting... | said. "Obviously unfair," said Margaret. "I was only thinking how tangled things are. It s our fault mostly--neither yours nor his." "Not his?" "No." "Miss Schlegel, you are too kind." "Yes, indeed," nodded Evie, a little contemptuously. "You behave much too well to people, and then they impose on you. I know the world... | really--" said their visitor. "Ought she to?" At once she went. He resumed. "I would have chimed in, but I felt that you could polish him off for yourselves--I didn t interfere. You were splendid, Miss Schlegel--absolutely splendid. You can take my word for it, but there are very few women who could have managed him." ... | picked. I ask you, is it fair?" "Highly unfair," said Mr. Wilcox, drawing a gasp from Evie, who knew that her father was becoming dangerous. "There, you hear that? Most unfair, the gentleman says. There! Not content with" "--pointing at Margaret--" "you can t deny it." His voice rose; he was falling into the rhythm of ... | and Jezebel danced at his boots and made him look ridiculous. "You were picking my brain for official information--I can prove it--I--" He blew his nose and left them. "Can I help you now?" said Mr. Wilcox, turning to Margaret. "May I have one quiet word with him in the hall?" "Helen, go after him--do anything--anythin... | Howards End |
She turned to him frankly. | No speaker | to let such people in."<|quote|>She turned to him frankly.</|quote|>"Let me explain exactly why | ought to have orders not to let such people in."<|quote|>She turned to him frankly.</|quote|>"Let me explain exactly why we like this man, and | suspicion. One touch of thought or of goodwill would have brushed it away. Just the senseless fear that does make men intolerable brutes." "I come back to my original point. You ought to be more careful, Miss Schlegel. Your servants ought to have orders not to let such people in."<|quote|>She turned to him frankly.</|q... | up and down the room. "A gentleman would have kept his suspicions to himself." Mr. Wilcox watched her with a vague uneasiness. "What did he suspect you of?" "Of wanting to make money out of him." "Intolerable brute! But how were you to benefit?" "Exactly. How indeed! Just horrible, corroding suspicion. One touch of tho... | are too kind." "Yes, indeed," nodded Evie, a little contemptuously. "You behave much too well to people, and then they impose on you. I know the world and that type of man, and as soon as I entered the room I saw you had not been treating him properly. You must keep that type at a distance. Otherwise they forget themse... | for yourselves--I didn t interfere. You were splendid, Miss Schlegel--absolutely splendid. You can take my word for it, but there are very few women who could have managed him." "Oh yes," said Margaret distractedly. "Bowling him over with those long sentences was what fetched me," cried Evie. "Yes, indeed," chuckled he... | hear that? Most unfair, the gentleman says. There! Not content with" "--pointing at Margaret--" "you can t deny it." His voice rose; he was falling into the rhythm of a scene with Jacky. "But as soon as I m useful it s a very different thing. Oh yes, send for him. Cross-question him. Pick his brains. Oh yes. Now, take ... | and other days. What is the good of your stars and trees, your sunrise and the wind, if they do not enter into our daily lives? They have never entered into mine, but into yours, we thought--Haven t we all to struggle against life s daily greyness, against pettiness, against mechanical cheerfulness, against suspicion? ... | Howards End |
"Let me explain exactly why we like this man, and want to see him again." | Margaret | She turned to him frankly.<|quote|>"Let me explain exactly why we like this man, and want to see him again."</|quote|>"That s your clever way | to let such people in." She turned to him frankly.<|quote|>"Let me explain exactly why we like this man, and want to see him again."</|quote|>"That s your clever way of talking. I shall never | or of goodwill would have brushed it away. Just the senseless fear that does make men intolerable brutes." "I come back to my original point. You ought to be more careful, Miss Schlegel. Your servants ought to have orders not to let such people in." She turned to him frankly.<|quote|>"Let me explain exactly why we like... | "A gentleman would have kept his suspicions to himself." Mr. Wilcox watched her with a vague uneasiness. "What did he suspect you of?" "Of wanting to make money out of him." "Intolerable brute! But how were you to benefit?" "Exactly. How indeed! Just horrible, corroding suspicion. One touch of thought or of goodwill wo... | nodded Evie, a little contemptuously. "You behave much too well to people, and then they impose on you. I know the world and that type of man, and as soon as I entered the room I saw you had not been treating him properly. You must keep that type at a distance. Otherwise they forget themselves. Sad, but true. They aren... | You were splendid, Miss Schlegel--absolutely splendid. You can take my word for it, but there are very few women who could have managed him." "Oh yes," said Margaret distractedly. "Bowling him over with those long sentences was what fetched me," cried Evie. "Yes, indeed," chuckled her father; "all that part about mecha... | gentleman says. There! Not content with" "--pointing at Margaret--" "you can t deny it." His voice rose; he was falling into the rhythm of a scene with Jacky. "But as soon as I m useful it s a very different thing. Oh yes, send for him. Cross-question him. Pick his brains. Oh yes. Now, take me on the whole, I m a quiet... | can prove it--I--" He blew his nose and left them. "Can I help you now?" said Mr. Wilcox, turning to Margaret. "May I have one quiet word with him in the hall?" "Helen, go after him--do anything--anything--to make the noodle understand." Helen hesitated. "But really--" said their visitor. "Ought she to?" At once she we... | Howards End |
"That s your clever way of talking. I shall never believe you like him." | Henry | want to see him again."<|quote|>"That s your clever way of talking. I shall never believe you like him."</|quote|>"I do. Firstly, because he | we like this man, and want to see him again."<|quote|>"That s your clever way of talking. I shall never believe you like him."</|quote|>"I do. Firstly, because he cares for physical adventure, just | men intolerable brutes." "I come back to my original point. You ought to be more careful, Miss Schlegel. Your servants ought to have orders not to let such people in." She turned to him frankly. "Let me explain exactly why we like this man, and want to see him again."<|quote|>"That s your clever way of talking. I shall... | vague uneasiness. "What did he suspect you of?" "Of wanting to make money out of him." "Intolerable brute! But how were you to benefit?" "Exactly. How indeed! Just horrible, corroding suspicion. One touch of thought or of goodwill would have brushed it away. Just the senseless fear that does make men intolerable brutes... | impose on you. I know the world and that type of man, and as soon as I entered the room I saw you had not been treating him properly. You must keep that type at a distance. Otherwise they forget themselves. Sad, but true. They aren t our sort, and one must face the fact." "Ye--es." "Do admit that we should never have h... | are very few women who could have managed him." "Oh yes," said Margaret distractedly. "Bowling him over with those long sentences was what fetched me," cried Evie. "Yes, indeed," chuckled her father; "all that part about mechanical cheerfulness --oh, fine!" "I m very sorry," said Margaret, collecting herself. "He s a n... | voice rose; he was falling into the rhythm of a scene with Jacky. "But as soon as I m useful it s a very different thing. Oh yes, send for him. Cross-question him. Pick his brains. Oh yes. Now, take me on the whole, I m a quiet fellow: I m law-abiding, I don t wish any unpleasantness; but I--I--" "You," said Margaret--... | but I felt that you could polish him off for yourselves--I didn t interfere. You were splendid, Miss Schlegel--absolutely splendid. You can take my word for it, but there are very few women who could have managed him." "Oh yes," said Margaret distractedly. "Bowling him over with those long sentences was what fetched me... | Howards End |
"I do. Firstly, because he cares for physical adventure, just as you do. Yes, you go motoring and shooting; he would like to go camping out. Secondly, he cares for something special IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--" | Margaret | never believe you like him."<|quote|>"I do. Firstly, because he cares for physical adventure, just as you do. Yes, you go motoring and shooting; he would like to go camping out. Secondly, he cares for something special IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--"</|quote|>"Oh, he s one of | way of talking. I shall never believe you like him."<|quote|>"I do. Firstly, because he cares for physical adventure, just as you do. Yes, you go motoring and shooting; he would like to go camping out. Secondly, he cares for something special IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--"</|quote... | more careful, Miss Schlegel. Your servants ought to have orders not to let such people in." She turned to him frankly. "Let me explain exactly why we like this man, and want to see him again." "That s your clever way of talking. I shall never believe you like him."<|quote|>"I do. Firstly, because he cares for physical ... | of him." "Intolerable brute! But how were you to benefit?" "Exactly. How indeed! Just horrible, corroding suspicion. One touch of thought or of goodwill would have brushed it away. Just the senseless fear that does make men intolerable brutes." "I come back to my original point. You ought to be more careful, Miss Schle... | soon as I entered the room I saw you had not been treating him properly. You must keep that type at a distance. Otherwise they forget themselves. Sad, but true. They aren t our sort, and one must face the fact." "Ye--es." "Do admit that we should never have had the outburst if he was a gentleman." "I admit it willingly... | "Bowling him over with those long sentences was what fetched me," cried Evie. "Yes, indeed," chuckled her father; "all that part about mechanical cheerfulness --oh, fine!" "I m very sorry," said Margaret, collecting herself. "He s a nice creature really. I cannot think what set him off. It has been most unpleasant for ... | as soon as I m useful it s a very different thing. Oh yes, send for him. Cross-question him. Pick his brains. Oh yes. Now, take me on the whole, I m a quiet fellow: I m law-abiding, I don t wish any unpleasantness; but I--I--" "You," said Margaret--" "you--you--" Laughter from Evie as at a repartee. "You are the man wh... | ridiculous. "You were picking my brain for official information--I can prove it--I--" He blew his nose and left them. "Can I help you now?" said Mr. Wilcox, turning to Margaret. "May I have one quiet word with him in the hall?" "Helen, go after him--do anything--anything--to make the noodle understand." Helen hesitated... | Howards End |
"Oh, he s one of that writer sort." | Henry | call that special something poetry--"<|quote|>"Oh, he s one of that writer sort."</|quote|>"No--oh no! I mean he | adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--"<|quote|>"Oh, he s one of that writer sort."</|quote|>"No--oh no! I mean he may be, but it would | I shall never believe you like him." "I do. Firstly, because he cares for physical adventure, just as you do. Yes, you go motoring and shooting; he would like to go camping out. Secondly, he cares for something special IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--"<|quote|>"Oh, he s one of that w... | my original point. You ought to be more careful, Miss Schlegel. Your servants ought to have orders not to let such people in." She turned to him frankly. "Let me explain exactly why we like this man, and want to see him again." "That s your clever way of talking. I shall never believe you like him." "I do. Firstly, bec... | admit that we should never have had the outburst if he was a gentleman." "I admit it willingly," said Margaret, who was pacing up and down the room. "A gentleman would have kept his suspicions to himself." Mr. Wilcox watched her with a vague uneasiness. "What did he suspect you of?" "Of wanting to make money out of him... | what set him off. It has been most unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your f... | unpleasantness; but I--I--" "You," said Margaret--" "you--you--" Laughter from Evie as at a repartee. "You are the man who tried to walk by the Pole Star." More laughter. "You saw the sunrise." Laughter. "You tried to get away from the fogs that are stifling us all--away past books and houses to the truth. You were loo... | for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "T... | Howards End |
"No--oh no! I mean he may be, but it would be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go to the real thing. We want to show him how he may get upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the country, some" | Margaret | one of that writer sort."<|quote|>"No--oh no! I mean he may be, but it would be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go to the real thing. We want to show him how he may get upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the country, som... | something poetry--" "Oh, he s one of that writer sort."<|quote|>"No--oh no! I mean he may be, but it would be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go to the real thing. We want to show him how he may get upsides with life. As I said, eith... | do. Firstly, because he cares for physical adventure, just as you do. Yes, you go motoring and shooting; he would like to go camping out. Secondly, he cares for something special IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--" "Oh, he s one of that writer sort."<|quote|>"No--oh no! I mean he may b... | careful, Miss Schlegel. Your servants ought to have orders not to let such people in." She turned to him frankly. "Let me explain exactly why we like this man, and want to see him again." "That s your clever way of talking. I shall never believe you like him." "I do. Firstly, because he cares for physical adventure, ju... | outburst if he was a gentleman." "I admit it willingly," said Margaret, who was pacing up and down the room. "A gentleman would have kept his suspicions to himself." Mr. Wilcox watched her with a vague uneasiness. "What did he suspect you of?" "Of wanting to make money out of him." "Intolerable brute! But how were you ... | unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsibl... | from Evie as at a repartee. "You are the man who tried to walk by the Pole Star." More laughter. "You saw the sunrise." Laughter. "You tried to get away from the fogs that are stifling us all--away past books and houses to the truth. You were looking for a real home." "I fail to see the connection," said Leonard, hot w... | you are too kind." "Yes, indeed," nodded Evie, a little contemptuously. "You behave much too well to people, and then they impose on you. I know the world and that type of man, and as soon as I entered the room I saw you had not been treating him properly. You must keep that type at a distance. Otherwise they forget th... | Howards End |
"--she hesitated--" | No speaker | friends or the country, some"<|quote|>"--she hesitated--"</|quote|>"either some very dear person | life. As I said, either friends or the country, some"<|quote|>"--she hesitated--"</|quote|>"either some very dear person or some very dear place | it would be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go to the real thing. We want to show him how he may get upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the country, some"<|quote|>"--she hesitated--"</|quote|>"either some very dear perso... | just as you do. Yes, you go motoring and shooting; he would like to go camping out. Secondly, he cares for something special IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--" "Oh, he s one of that writer sort." "No--oh no! I mean he may be, but it would be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with t... | benefit?" "Exactly. How indeed! Just horrible, corroding suspicion. One touch of thought or of goodwill would have brushed it away. Just the senseless fear that does make men intolerable brutes." "I come back to my original point. You ought to be more careful, Miss Schlegel. Your servants ought to have orders not to le... | "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I hardly consider that a fair deduction," he said. "Obviously unfair," said Margaret. "I was only thinking how tangled things are. It s our fault mostly--neither yours nor his." "Not his?" "No." "M... | said Leonard, hot with stupid anger. "So do I." There was a pause. "You were that last Sunday--you are this to-day. Mr. Bast! I and my sister have talked you over. We wanted to help you; we also supposed you might help us. We did not have you here out of charity--which bores us--but because we hoped there would be a co... | didn t interfere. You were splendid, Miss Schlegel--absolutely splendid. You can take my word for it, but there are very few women who could have managed him." "Oh yes," said Margaret distractedly. "Bowling him over with those long sentences was what fetched me," cried Evie. "Yes, indeed," chuckled her father; "all tha... | Howards End |
"either some very dear person or some very dear place seems necessary to relieve life s daily grey, and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should have both." | Margaret | the country, some" "--she hesitated--"<|quote|>"either some very dear person or some very dear place seems necessary to relieve life s daily grey, and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should have both."</|quote|>Some of her words ran | I said, either friends or the country, some" "--she hesitated--"<|quote|>"either some very dear person or some very dear place seems necessary to relieve life s daily grey, and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should have both."</|quote|>Some of her words ran past Mr. Wilcox. He let | be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go to the real thing. We want to show him how he may get upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the country, some" "--she hesitated--"<|quote|>"either some very dear person or some very dea... | you do. Yes, you go motoring and shooting; he would like to go camping out. Secondly, he cares for something special IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--" "Oh, he s one of that writer sort." "No--oh no! I mean he may be, but it would be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks... | How indeed! Just horrible, corroding suspicion. One touch of thought or of goodwill would have brushed it away. Just the senseless fear that does make men intolerable brutes." "I come back to my original point. You ought to be more careful, Miss Schlegel. Your servants ought to have orders not to let such people in." S... | is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I hardly consider that a fair deduction," he said. "Obviously unfair," said Margaret. "I was only thinking how tangled things are. It s our fault mostly--neither yours nor his." "Not his?" "No." "Miss Schlege... | hot with stupid anger. "So do I." There was a pause. "You were that last Sunday--you are this to-day. Mr. Bast! I and my sister have talked you over. We wanted to help you; we also supposed you might help us. We did not have you here out of charity--which bores us--but because we hoped there would be a connection betwe... | Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I hardly consider that a fair deduction," he said. "Obviously unfair," said Margaret. "I was only thinking how tang... | Howards End |
Some of her words ran past Mr. Wilcox. He let them run past. Others he caught and criticised with admirable lucidity. | No speaker | possible, one should have both."<|quote|>Some of her words ran past Mr. Wilcox. He let them run past. Others he caught and criticised with admirable lucidity.</|quote|>"Your mistake is this, and | that it is grey. If possible, one should have both."<|quote|>Some of her words ran past Mr. Wilcox. He let them run past. Others he caught and criticised with admirable lucidity.</|quote|>"Your mistake is this, and it is a very common | him how he may get upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the country, some" "--she hesitated--" "either some very dear person or some very dear place seems necessary to relieve life s daily grey, and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should have both."<|quote|>Some of her words ran past Mr. Wilcox. He... | poetry--" "Oh, he s one of that writer sort." "No--oh no! I mean he may be, but it would be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go to the real thing. We want to show him how he may get upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the ... | to my original point. You ought to be more careful, Miss Schlegel. Your servants ought to have orders not to let such people in." She turned to him frankly. "Let me explain exactly why we like this man, and want to see him again." "That s your clever way of talking. I shall never believe you like him." "I do. Firstly, ... | said Margaret. "I was only thinking how tangled things are. It s our fault mostly--neither yours nor his." "Not his?" "No." "Miss Schlegel, you are too kind." "Yes, indeed," nodded Evie, a little contemptuously. "You behave much too well to people, and then they impose on you. I know the world and that type of man, and... | to help you; we also supposed you might help us. We did not have you here out of charity--which bores us--but because we hoped there would be a connection between last Sunday and other days. What is the good of your stars and trees, your sunrise and the wind, if they do not enter into our daily lives? They have never e... | the outburst if he was a gentleman." "I admit it willingly," said Margaret, who was pacing up and down the room. "A gentleman would have kept his suspicions to himself." Mr. Wilcox watched her with a vague uneasiness. "What did he suspect you of?" "Of wanting to make money out of him." "Intolerable brute! But how were ... | Howards End |
"Your mistake is this, and it is a very common mistake. This young bounder has a life of his own. What right have you to conclude it is an unsuccessful life, or, as you call it, grey ?" | Henry | and criticised with admirable lucidity.<|quote|>"Your mistake is this, and it is a very common mistake. This young bounder has a life of his own. What right have you to conclude it is an unsuccessful life, or, as you call it, grey ?"</|quote|>"Because--" "One minute. You know | run past. Others he caught and criticised with admirable lucidity.<|quote|>"Your mistake is this, and it is a very common mistake. This young bounder has a life of his own. What right have you to conclude it is an unsuccessful life, or, as you call it, grey ?"</|quote|>"Because--" "One minute. You know nothing about hi... | very dear person or some very dear place seems necessary to relieve life s daily grey, and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should have both." Some of her words ran past Mr. Wilcox. He let them run past. Others he caught and criticised with admirable lucidity.<|quote|>"Your mistake is this, and it is a very co... | stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go to the real thing. We want to show him how he may get upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the country, some" "--she hesitated--" "either some very dear person or some very dear place seems necessa... | such people in." She turned to him frankly. "Let me explain exactly why we like this man, and want to see him again." "That s your clever way of talking. I shall never believe you like him." "I do. Firstly, because he cares for physical adventure, just as you do. Yes, you go motoring and shooting; he would like to go c... | "Miss Schlegel, you are too kind." "Yes, indeed," nodded Evie, a little contemptuously. "You behave much too well to people, and then they impose on you. I know the world and that type of man, and as soon as I entered the room I saw you had not been treating him properly. You must keep that type at a distance. Otherwis... | because we hoped there would be a connection between last Sunday and other days. What is the good of your stars and trees, your sunrise and the wind, if they do not enter into our daily lives? They have never entered into mine, but into yours, we thought--Haven t we all to struggle against life s daily greyness, agains... | he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to... | Howards End |
"Because--" | Margaret | you call it, grey ?"<|quote|>"Because--"</|quote|>"One minute. You know nothing | an unsuccessful life, or, as you call it, grey ?"<|quote|>"Because--"</|quote|>"One minute. You know nothing about him. He probably has | let them run past. Others he caught and criticised with admirable lucidity. "Your mistake is this, and it is a very common mistake. This young bounder has a life of his own. What right have you to conclude it is an unsuccessful life, or, as you call it, grey ?"<|quote|>"Because--"</|quote|>"One minute. You know nothing... | I said, either friends or the country, some" "--she hesitated--" "either some very dear person or some very dear place seems necessary to relieve life s daily grey, and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should have both." Some of her words ran past Mr. Wilcox. He let them run past. Others he caught and criticis... | do. Firstly, because he cares for physical adventure, just as you do. Yes, you go motoring and shooting; he would like to go camping out. Secondly, he cares for something special IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--" "Oh, he s one of that writer sort." "No--oh no! I mean he may be, but i... | as I entered the room I saw you had not been treating him properly. You must keep that type at a distance. Otherwise they forget themselves. Sad, but true. They aren t our sort, and one must face the fact." "Ye--es." "Do admit that we should never have had the outburst if he was a gentleman." "I admit it willingly," sa... | have never entered into mine, but into yours, we thought--Haven t we all to struggle against life s daily greyness, against pettiness, against mechanical cheerfulness, against suspicion? I struggle by remembering my friends; others I have known by remembering some place--some beloved place or tree--we thought you one o... | again." "That s your clever way of talking. I shall never believe you like him." "I do. Firstly, because he cares for physical adventure, just as you do. Yes, you go motoring and shooting; he would like to go camping out. Secondly, he cares for something special IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special somethi... | Howards End |
"One minute. You know nothing about him. He probably has his own joys and interests--wife, children, snug little home. That s where we practical fellows" | Henry | call it, grey ?" "Because--"<|quote|>"One minute. You know nothing about him. He probably has his own joys and interests--wife, children, snug little home. That s where we practical fellows"</|quote|>he smiled--" "are more tolerant | unsuccessful life, or, as you call it, grey ?" "Because--"<|quote|>"One minute. You know nothing about him. He probably has his own joys and interests--wife, children, snug little home. That s where we practical fellows"</|quote|>he smiled--" "are more tolerant than you intellectuals. We live | them run past. Others he caught and criticised with admirable lucidity. "Your mistake is this, and it is a very common mistake. This young bounder has a life of his own. What right have you to conclude it is an unsuccessful life, or, as you call it, grey ?" "Because--"<|quote|>"One minute. You know nothing about him. H... | said, either friends or the country, some" "--she hesitated--" "either some very dear person or some very dear place seems necessary to relieve life s daily grey, and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should have both." Some of her words ran past Mr. Wilcox. He let them run past. Others he caught and criticised... | Firstly, because he cares for physical adventure, just as you do. Yes, you go motoring and shooting; he would like to go camping out. Secondly, he cares for something special IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--" "Oh, he s one of that writer sort." "No--oh no! I mean he may be, but it wo... | I entered the room I saw you had not been treating him properly. You must keep that type at a distance. Otherwise they forget themselves. Sad, but true. They aren t our sort, and one must face the fact." "Ye--es." "Do admit that we should never have had the outburst if he was a gentleman." "I admit it willingly," said ... | never entered into mine, but into yours, we thought--Haven t we all to struggle against life s daily greyness, against pettiness, against mechanical cheerfulness, against suspicion? I struggle by remembering my friends; others I have known by remembering some place--some beloved place or tree--we thought you one of the... | cried Evie. "Yes, indeed," chuckled her father; "all that part about mechanical cheerfulness --oh, fine!" "I m very sorry," said Margaret, collecting herself. "He s a nice creature really. I cannot think what set him off. It has been most unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if h... | Howards End |
he smiled--" | No speaker | s where we practical fellows"<|quote|>he smiled--"</|quote|>"are more tolerant than you | children, snug little home. That s where we practical fellows"<|quote|>he smiled--"</|quote|>"are more tolerant than you intellectuals. We live and let | has a life of his own. What right have you to conclude it is an unsuccessful life, or, as you call it, grey ?" "Because--" "One minute. You know nothing about him. He probably has his own joys and interests--wife, children, snug little home. That s where we practical fellows"<|quote|>he smiled--"</|quote|>"are more tol... | daily grey, and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should have both." Some of her words ran past Mr. Wilcox. He let them run past. Others he caught and criticised with admirable lucidity. "Your mistake is this, and it is a very common mistake. This young bounder has a life of his own. What right have you to conc... | he cares for something special IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--" "Oh, he s one of that writer sort." "No--oh no! I mean he may be, but it would be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go to the real thi... | Sad, but true. They aren t our sort, and one must face the fact." "Ye--es." "Do admit that we should never have had the outburst if he was a gentleman." "I admit it willingly," said Margaret, who was pacing up and down the room. "A gentleman would have kept his suspicions to himself." Mr. Wilcox watched her with a vagu... | suspicion? I struggle by remembering my friends; others I have known by remembering some place--some beloved place or tree--we thought you one of these." "Of course, if there s been any misunderstanding," mumbled Leonard, "all I can do is to go. But I beg to state--" He paused. Ahab and Jezebel danced at his boots and ... | "I do. Firstly, because he cares for physical adventure, just as you do. Yes, you go motoring and shooting; he would like to go camping out. Secondly, he cares for something special IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--" "Oh, he s one of that writer sort." "No--oh no! I mean he may be, bu... | Howards End |
"are more tolerant than you intellectuals. We live and let live, and assume that things are jogging on fairly well elsewhere, and that the ordinary plain man may be trusted to look after his own affairs. I quite grant--I look at the faces of the clerks in my own office, and observe them to be dull, but I don t know wha... | Henry | we practical fellows" he smiled--"<|quote|>"are more tolerant than you intellectuals. We live and let live, and assume that things are jogging on fairly well elsewhere, and that the ordinary plain man may be trusted to look after his own affairs. I quite grant--I look at the faces of the clerks in my own office, and ob... | little home. That s where we practical fellows" he smiled--"<|quote|>"are more tolerant than you intellectuals. We live and let live, and assume that things are jogging on fairly well elsewhere, and that the ordinary plain man may be trusted to look after his own affairs. I quite grant--I look at the faces of the clerk... | life of his own. What right have you to conclude it is an unsuccessful life, or, as you call it, grey ?" "Because--" "One minute. You know nothing about him. He probably has his own joys and interests--wife, children, snug little home. That s where we practical fellows" he smiled--"<|quote|>"are more tolerant than you ... | and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should have both." Some of her words ran past Mr. Wilcox. He let them run past. Others he caught and criticised with admirable lucidity. "Your mistake is this, and it is a very common mistake. This young bounder has a life of his own. What right have you to conclude it is a... | for something special IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--" "Oh, he s one of that writer sort." "No--oh no! I mean he may be, but it would be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go to the real thing. We wa... | true. They aren t our sort, and one must face the fact." "Ye--es." "Do admit that we should never have had the outburst if he was a gentleman." "I admit it willingly," said Margaret, who was pacing up and down the room. "A gentleman would have kept his suspicions to himself." Mr. Wilcox watched her with a vague uneasin... | struggle by remembering my friends; others I have known by remembering some place--some beloved place or tree--we thought you one of these." "Of course, if there s been any misunderstanding," mumbled Leonard, "all I can do is to go. But I beg to state--" He paused. Ahab and Jezebel danced at his boots and made him look... | his." "Not his?" "No." "Miss Schlegel, you are too kind." "Yes, indeed," nodded Evie, a little contemptuously. "You behave much too well to people, and then they impose on you. I know the world and that type of man, and as soon as I entered the room I saw you had not been treating him properly. You must keep that type ... | Howards End |
She admitted the strength of his position, though it undermined imagination. As he spoke, some outposts of poetry and perhaps of sympathy fell ruining, and she retreated to what she called her "second line"--to the special facts of the case. | No speaker | to morbidity, discontent, and Socialism."<|quote|>She admitted the strength of his position, though it undermined imagination. As he spoke, some outposts of poetry and perhaps of sympathy fell ruining, and she retreated to what she called her "second line"--to the special facts of the case.</|quote|>"His wife is an old | many cases that attitude leads to morbidity, discontent, and Socialism."<|quote|>She admitted the strength of his position, though it undermined imagination. As he spoke, some outposts of poetry and perhaps of sympathy fell ruining, and she retreated to what she called her "second line"--to the special facts of the cas... | Miss Schlegel, and it seems a funny thing to say but I was very angry with you. What do you know about London? You only see civilisation from the outside. I don t say in your case, but in too many cases that attitude leads to morbidity, discontent, and Socialism."<|quote|>She admitted the strength of his position, thou... | trusted to look after his own affairs. I quite grant--I look at the faces of the clerks in my own office, and observe them to be dull, but I don t know what s going on beneath. So, by the way, with London. I have heard you rail against London, Miss Schlegel, and it seems a funny thing to say but I was very angry with y... | and criticised with admirable lucidity. "Your mistake is this, and it is a very common mistake. This young bounder has a life of his own. What right have you to conclude it is an unsuccessful life, or, as you call it, grey ?" "Because--" "One minute. You know nothing about him. He probably has his own joys and interest... | have orders not to let such people in." She turned to him frankly. "Let me explain exactly why we like this man, and want to see him again." "That s your clever way of talking. I shall never believe you like him." "I do. Firstly, because he cares for physical adventure, just as you do. Yes, you go motoring and shooting... | I felt that you could polish him off for yourselves--I didn t interfere. You were splendid, Miss Schlegel--absolutely splendid. You can take my word for it, but there are very few women who could have managed him." "Oh yes," said Margaret distractedly. "Bowling him over with those long sentences was what fetched me," c... | Mr. Wilcox. He let them run past. Others he caught and criticised with admirable lucidity. "Your mistake is this, and it is a very common mistake. This young bounder has a life of his own. What right have you to conclude it is an unsuccessful life, or, as you call it, grey ?" "Because--" "One minute. You know nothing a... | Howards End |
"His wife is an old bore," | Margaret | special facts of the case.<|quote|>"His wife is an old bore,"</|quote|>she said simply. "He never | called her "second line"--to the special facts of the case.<|quote|>"His wife is an old bore,"</|quote|>she said simply. "He never came home last Saturday night | many cases that attitude leads to morbidity, discontent, and Socialism." She admitted the strength of his position, though it undermined imagination. As he spoke, some outposts of poetry and perhaps of sympathy fell ruining, and she retreated to what she called her "second line"--to the special facts of the case.<|quot... | way, with London. I have heard you rail against London, Miss Schlegel, and it seems a funny thing to say but I was very angry with you. What do you know about London? You only see civilisation from the outside. I don t say in your case, but in too many cases that attitude leads to morbidity, discontent, and Socialism."... | it, grey ?" "Because--" "One minute. You know nothing about him. He probably has his own joys and interests--wife, children, snug little home. That s where we practical fellows" he smiled--" "are more tolerant than you intellectuals. We live and let live, and assume that things are jogging on fairly well elsewhere, and... | like him." "I do. Firstly, because he cares for physical adventure, just as you do. Yes, you go motoring and shooting; he would like to go camping out. Secondly, he cares for something special IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--" "Oh, he s one of that writer sort." "No--oh no! I mean he... | Margaret distractedly. "Bowling him over with those long sentences was what fetched me," cried Evie. "Yes, indeed," chuckled her father; "all that part about mechanical cheerfulness --oh, fine!" "I m very sorry," said Margaret, collecting herself. "He s a nice creature really. I cannot think what set him off. It has be... | unsuccessful life, or, as you call it, grey ?" "Because--" "One minute. You know nothing about him. He probably has his own joys and interests--wife, children, snug little home. That s where we practical fellows" he smiled--" "are more tolerant than you intellectuals. We live and let live, and assume that things are jo... | Howards End |
she said simply. | No speaker | wife is an old bore,"<|quote|>she said simply.</|quote|>"He never came home last | facts of the case. "His wife is an old bore,"<|quote|>she said simply.</|quote|>"He never came home last Saturday night because he wanted | morbidity, discontent, and Socialism." She admitted the strength of his position, though it undermined imagination. As he spoke, some outposts of poetry and perhaps of sympathy fell ruining, and she retreated to what she called her "second line"--to the special facts of the case. "His wife is an old bore,"<|quote|>she ... | you rail against London, Miss Schlegel, and it seems a funny thing to say but I was very angry with you. What do you know about London? You only see civilisation from the outside. I don t say in your case, but in too many cases that attitude leads to morbidity, discontent, and Socialism." She admitted the strength of h... | You know nothing about him. He probably has his own joys and interests--wife, children, snug little home. That s where we practical fellows" he smiled--" "are more tolerant than you intellectuals. We live and let live, and assume that things are jogging on fairly well elsewhere, and that the ordinary plain man may be t... | he cares for physical adventure, just as you do. Yes, you go motoring and shooting; he would like to go camping out. Secondly, he cares for something special IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--" "Oh, he s one of that writer sort." "No--oh no! I mean he may be, but it would be loathsome ... | those long sentences was what fetched me," cried Evie. "Yes, indeed," chuckled her father; "all that part about mechanical cheerfulness --oh, fine!" "I m very sorry," said Margaret, collecting herself. "He s a nice creature really. I cannot think what set him off. It has been most unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t min... | it away. Just the senseless fear that does make men intolerable brutes." "I come back to my original point. You ought to be more careful, Miss Schlegel. Your servants ought to have orders not to let such people in." She turned to him frankly. "Let me explain exactly why we like this man, and want to see him again." "Th... | Howards End |
"He never came home last Saturday night because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us." | Margaret | old bore," she said simply.<|quote|>"He never came home last Saturday night because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us."</|quote|>"With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered. | case. "His wife is an old bore," she said simply.<|quote|>"He never came home last Saturday night because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us."</|quote|>"With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered. "He hasn t got the | Socialism." She admitted the strength of his position, though it undermined imagination. As he spoke, some outposts of poetry and perhaps of sympathy fell ruining, and she retreated to what she called her "second line"--to the special facts of the case. "His wife is an old bore," she said simply.<|quote|>"He never came... | London, Miss Schlegel, and it seems a funny thing to say but I was very angry with you. What do you know about London? You only see civilisation from the outside. I don t say in your case, but in too many cases that attitude leads to morbidity, discontent, and Socialism." She admitted the strength of his position, thou... | about him. He probably has his own joys and interests--wife, children, snug little home. That s where we practical fellows" he smiled--" "are more tolerant than you intellectuals. We live and let live, and assume that things are jogging on fairly well elsewhere, and that the ordinary plain man may be trusted to look af... | physical adventure, just as you do. Yes, you go motoring and shooting; he would like to go camping out. Secondly, he cares for something special IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--" "Oh, he s one of that writer sort." "No--oh no! I mean he may be, but it would be loathsome stuff. His br... | was what fetched me," cried Evie. "Yes, indeed," chuckled her father; "all that part about mechanical cheerfulness --oh, fine!" "I m very sorry," said Margaret, collecting herself. "He s a nice creature really. I cannot think what set him off. It has been most unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed h... | Sad, but true. They aren t our sort, and one must face the fact." "Ye--es." "Do admit that we should never have had the outburst if he was a gentleman." "I admit it willingly," said Margaret, who was pacing up and down the room. "A gentleman would have kept his suspicions to himself." Mr. Wilcox watched her with a vagu... | Howards End |
"With YOU?" | Henry | thought he was with us."<|quote|>"With YOU?"</|quote|>"Yes." Evie tittered. "He hasn | to be alone, and she thought he was with us."<|quote|>"With YOU?"</|quote|>"Yes." Evie tittered. "He hasn t got the cosy home | perhaps of sympathy fell ruining, and she retreated to what she called her "second line"--to the special facts of the case. "His wife is an old bore," she said simply. "He never came home last Saturday night because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us."<|quote|>"With YOU?"</|quote|>"Yes." Evie tittere... | you know about London? You only see civilisation from the outside. I don t say in your case, but in too many cases that attitude leads to morbidity, discontent, and Socialism." She admitted the strength of his position, though it undermined imagination. As he spoke, some outposts of poetry and perhaps of sympathy fell ... | he smiled--" "are more tolerant than you intellectuals. We live and let live, and assume that things are jogging on fairly well elsewhere, and that the ordinary plain man may be trusted to look after his own affairs. I quite grant--I look at the faces of the clerks in my own office, and observe them to be dull, but I d... | he cares for something special IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--" "Oh, he s one of that writer sort." "No--oh no! I mean he may be, but it would be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go to the real thi... | m very sorry," said Margaret, collecting herself. "He s a nice creature really. I cannot think what set him off. It has been most unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margar... | had the outburst if he was a gentleman." "I admit it willingly," said Margaret, who was pacing up and down the room. "A gentleman would have kept his suspicions to himself." Mr. Wilcox watched her with a vague uneasiness. "What did he suspect you of?" "Of wanting to make money out of him." "Intolerable brute! But how w... | Howards End |
"Yes." | Margaret | was with us." "With YOU?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>Evie tittered. "He hasn t | alone, and she thought he was with us." "With YOU?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>Evie tittered. "He hasn t got the cosy home that | sympathy fell ruining, and she retreated to what she called her "second line"--to the special facts of the case. "His wife is an old bore," she said simply. "He never came home last Saturday night because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us." "With YOU?"<|quote|>"Yes."</|quote|>Evie tittered. "He hasn... | about London? You only see civilisation from the outside. I don t say in your case, but in too many cases that attitude leads to morbidity, discontent, and Socialism." She admitted the strength of his position, though it undermined imagination. As he spoke, some outposts of poetry and perhaps of sympathy fell ruining, ... | "are more tolerant than you intellectuals. We live and let live, and assume that things are jogging on fairly well elsewhere, and that the ordinary plain man may be trusted to look after his own affairs. I quite grant--I look at the faces of the clerks in my own office, and observe them to be dull, but I don t know wha... | for something special IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--" "Oh, he s one of that writer sort." "No--oh no! I mean he may be, but it would be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go to the real thing. We wa... | sorry," said Margaret, collecting herself. "He s a nice creature really. I cannot think what set him off. It has been most unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laug... | to himself." Mr. Wilcox watched her with a vague uneasiness. "What did he suspect you of?" "Of wanting to make money out of him." "Intolerable brute! But how were you to benefit?" "Exactly. How indeed! Just horrible, corroding suspicion. One touch of thought or of goodwill would have brushed it away. Just the senseless... | Howards End |
Evie tittered. | No speaker | with us." "With YOU?" "Yes."<|quote|>Evie tittered.</|quote|>"He hasn t got the | and she thought he was with us." "With YOU?" "Yes."<|quote|>Evie tittered.</|quote|>"He hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. | fell ruining, and she retreated to what she called her "second line"--to the special facts of the case. "His wife is an old bore," she said simply. "He never came home last Saturday night because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us." "With YOU?" "Yes."<|quote|>Evie tittered.</|quote|>"He hasn t got th... | London? You only see civilisation from the outside. I don t say in your case, but in too many cases that attitude leads to morbidity, discontent, and Socialism." She admitted the strength of his position, though it undermined imagination. As he spoke, some outposts of poetry and perhaps of sympathy fell ruining, and sh... | more tolerant than you intellectuals. We live and let live, and assume that things are jogging on fairly well elsewhere, and that the ordinary plain man may be trusted to look after his own affairs. I quite grant--I look at the faces of the clerks in my own office, and observe them to be dull, but I don t know what s g... | something special IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--" "Oh, he s one of that writer sort." "No--oh no! I mean he may be, but it would be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go to the real thing. We want t... | said Margaret, collecting herself. "He s a nice creature really. I cannot think what set him off. It has been most unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, tho... | to have orders not to let such people in." She turned to him frankly. "Let me explain exactly why we like this man, and want to see him again." "That s your clever way of talking. I shall never believe you like him." "I do. Firstly, because he cares for physical adventure, just as you do. Yes, you go motoring and shoot... | Howards End |
"He hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside interests." | Margaret | "With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered.<|quote|>"He hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside interests."</|quote|>"Naughty young man!" cried the | thought he was with us." "With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered.<|quote|>"He hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside interests."</|quote|>"Naughty young man!" cried the girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret, who | and she retreated to what she called her "second line"--to the special facts of the case. "His wife is an old bore," she said simply. "He never came home last Saturday night because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us." "With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered.<|quote|>"He hasn t got the cosy home that you as... | only see civilisation from the outside. I don t say in your case, but in too many cases that attitude leads to morbidity, discontent, and Socialism." She admitted the strength of his position, though it undermined imagination. As he spoke, some outposts of poetry and perhaps of sympathy fell ruining, and she retreated ... | than you intellectuals. We live and let live, and assume that things are jogging on fairly well elsewhere, and that the ordinary plain man may be trusted to look after his own affairs. I quite grant--I look at the faces of the clerks in my own office, and observe them to be dull, but I don t know what s going on beneat... | IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--" "Oh, he s one of that writer sort." "No--oh no! I mean he may be, but it would be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go to the real thing. We want to show him how he ... | collecting herself. "He s a nice creature really. I cannot think what set him off. It has been most unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thought... | and want to see him again." "That s your clever way of talking. I shall never believe you like him." "I do. Firstly, because he cares for physical adventure, just as you do. Yes, you go motoring and shooting; he would like to go camping out. Secondly, he cares for something special IN adventure. It is quickest to call ... | Howards End |
"Naughty young man!" | Evie | assumed. He needs outside interests."<|quote|>"Naughty young man!"</|quote|>cried the girl. "Naughty?" said | the cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside interests."<|quote|>"Naughty young man!"</|quote|>cried the girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more | the case. "His wife is an old bore," she said simply. "He never came home last Saturday night because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us." "With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered. "He hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside interests."<|quote|>"Naughty young man!"</|quote|>cried the girl... | in too many cases that attitude leads to morbidity, discontent, and Socialism." She admitted the strength of his position, though it undermined imagination. As he spoke, some outposts of poetry and perhaps of sympathy fell ruining, and she retreated to what she called her "second line"--to the special facts of the case... | on fairly well elsewhere, and that the ordinary plain man may be trusted to look after his own affairs. I quite grant--I look at the faces of the clerks in my own office, and observe them to be dull, but I don t know what s going on beneath. So, by the way, with London. I have heard you rail against London, Miss Schleg... | one of that writer sort." "No--oh no! I mean he may be, but it would be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go to the real thing. We want to show him how he may get upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the country, some" "--sh... | off. It has been most unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she sa... | admit it willingly," said Margaret, who was pacing up and down the room. "A gentleman would have kept his suspicions to himself." Mr. Wilcox watched her with a vague uneasiness. "What did he suspect you of?" "Of wanting to make money out of him." "Intolerable brute! But how were you to benefit?" "Exactly. How indeed! J... | Howards End |
cried the girl. | No speaker | outside interests." "Naughty young man!"<|quote|>cried the girl.</|quote|>"Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated | that you assumed. He needs outside interests." "Naughty young man!"<|quote|>cried the girl.</|quote|>"Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin. "When | wife is an old bore," she said simply. "He never came home last Saturday night because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us." "With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered. "He hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside interests." "Naughty young man!"<|quote|>cried the girl.</|quote|>"Naughty?" sa... | cases that attitude leads to morbidity, discontent, and Socialism." She admitted the strength of his position, though it undermined imagination. As he spoke, some outposts of poetry and perhaps of sympathy fell ruining, and she retreated to what she called her "second line"--to the special facts of the case. "His wife ... | elsewhere, and that the ordinary plain man may be trusted to look after his own affairs. I quite grant--I look at the faces of the clerks in my own office, and observe them to be dull, but I don t know what s going on beneath. So, by the way, with London. I have heard you rail against London, Miss Schlegel, and it seem... | writer sort." "No--oh no! I mean he may be, but it would be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go to the real thing. We want to show him how he may get upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the country, some" "--she hesitated-... | been most unpleasant for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re ... | you like him." "I do. Firstly, because he cares for physical adventure, just as you do. Yes, you go motoring and shooting; he would like to go camping out. Secondly, he cares for something special IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--" "Oh, he s one of that writer sort." "No--oh no! I mea... | Howards End |
"Naughty?" | Margaret | young man!" cried the girl.<|quote|>"Naughty?"</|quote|>said Margaret, who hated naughtiness | He needs outside interests." "Naughty young man!" cried the girl.<|quote|>"Naughty?"</|quote|>said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin. "When you | old bore," she said simply. "He never came home last Saturday night because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us." "With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered. "He hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside interests." "Naughty young man!" cried the girl.<|quote|>"Naughty?"</|quote|>said Margaret... | leads to morbidity, discontent, and Socialism." She admitted the strength of his position, though it undermined imagination. As he spoke, some outposts of poetry and perhaps of sympathy fell ruining, and she retreated to what she called her "second line"--to the special facts of the case. "His wife is an old bore," she... | the ordinary plain man may be trusted to look after his own affairs. I quite grant--I look at the faces of the clerks in my own office, and observe them to be dull, but I don t know what s going on beneath. So, by the way, with London. I have heard you rail against London, Miss Schlegel, and it seems a funny thing to s... | no! I mean he may be, but it would be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go to the real thing. We want to show him how he may get upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the country, some" "--she hesitated--" "either some very d... | for you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "T... | for something special IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--" "Oh, he s one of that writer sort." "No--oh no! I mean he may be, but it would be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go to the real thing. We wa... | Howards End |
said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin. | No speaker | man!" cried the girl. "Naughty?"<|quote|>said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin.</|quote|>"When you re married Miss | needs outside interests." "Naughty young man!" cried the girl. "Naughty?"<|quote|>said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin.</|quote|>"When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want | bore," she said simply. "He never came home last Saturday night because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us." "With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered. "He hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside interests." "Naughty young man!" cried the girl. "Naughty?"<|quote|>said Margaret, who hated n... | to morbidity, discontent, and Socialism." She admitted the strength of his position, though it undermined imagination. As he spoke, some outposts of poetry and perhaps of sympathy fell ruining, and she retreated to what she called her "second line"--to the special facts of the case. "His wife is an old bore," she said ... | ordinary plain man may be trusted to look after his own affairs. I quite grant--I look at the faces of the clerks in my own office, and observe them to be dull, but I don t know what s going on beneath. So, by the way, with London. I have heard you rail against London, Miss Schlegel, and it seems a funny thing to say b... | I mean he may be, but it would be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go to the real thing. We want to show him how he may get upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the country, some" "--she hesitated--" "either some very dear ... | you." "Oh, I didn t mind." Then he changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This ... | cares for something special IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--" "Oh, he s one of that writer sort." "No--oh no! I mean he may be, but it would be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go to the real thing.... | Howards End |
"When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want outside interests?" | Margaret | hated naughtiness more than sin.<|quote|>"When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want outside interests?"</|quote|>"He has apparently got them," | girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin.<|quote|>"When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want outside interests?"</|quote|>"He has apparently got them," put in Mr. Wilcox slyly. | last Saturday night because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us." "With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered. "He hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside interests." "Naughty young man!" cried the girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin.<|quote|>"When you re marri... | strength of his position, though it undermined imagination. As he spoke, some outposts of poetry and perhaps of sympathy fell ruining, and she retreated to what she called her "second line"--to the special facts of the case. "His wife is an old bore," she said simply. "He never came home last Saturday night because he ... | after his own affairs. I quite grant--I look at the faces of the clerks in my own office, and observe them to be dull, but I don t know what s going on beneath. So, by the way, with London. I have heard you rail against London, Miss Schlegel, and it seems a funny thing to say but I was very angry with you. What do you ... | be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go to the real thing. We want to show him how he may get upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the country, some" "--she hesitated--" "either some very dear person or some very dear place ... | changed his mood. He asked if he might speak as an old friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to wa... | you to benefit?" "Exactly. How indeed! Just horrible, corroding suspicion. One touch of thought or of goodwill would have brushed it away. Just the senseless fear that does make men intolerable brutes." "I come back to my original point. You ought to be more careful, Miss Schlegel. Your servants ought to have orders no... | Howards End |
"He has apparently got them," | Henry | t you want outside interests?"<|quote|>"He has apparently got them,"</|quote|>put in Mr. Wilcox slyly. | re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want outside interests?"<|quote|>"He has apparently got them,"</|quote|>put in Mr. Wilcox slyly. "Yes, indeed, father." "He was | he was with us." "With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered. "He hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside interests." "Naughty young man!" cried the girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin. "When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want outside interests?"<|quote|>"He has apparent... | outposts of poetry and perhaps of sympathy fell ruining, and she retreated to what she called her "second line"--to the special facts of the case. "His wife is an old bore," she said simply. "He never came home last Saturday night because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us." "With YOU?" "Yes." Evie t... | the clerks in my own office, and observe them to be dull, but I don t know what s going on beneath. So, by the way, with London. I have heard you rail against London, Miss Schlegel, and it seems a funny thing to say but I was very angry with you. What do you know about London? You only see civilisation from the outside... | culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go to the real thing. We want to show him how he may get upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the country, some" "--she hesitated--" "either some very dear person or some very dear place seems necessary to relieve life s daily grey, and to show that it... | friend, and, permission given, said: "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr.... | One touch of thought or of goodwill would have brushed it away. Just the senseless fear that does make men intolerable brutes." "I come back to my original point. You ought to be more careful, Miss Schlegel. Your servants ought to have orders not to let such people in." She turned to him frankly. "Let me explain exactl... | Howards End |
put in Mr. Wilcox slyly. | No speaker | "He has apparently got them,"<|quote|>put in Mr. Wilcox slyly.</|quote|>"Yes, indeed, father." "He was | t you want outside interests?" "He has apparently got them,"<|quote|>put in Mr. Wilcox slyly.</|quote|>"Yes, indeed, father." "He was tramping in Surrey, if you | YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered. "He hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside interests." "Naughty young man!" cried the girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin. "When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want outside interests?" "He has apparently got them,"<|quote|>put in Mr... | of sympathy fell ruining, and she retreated to what she called her "second line"--to the special facts of the case. "His wife is an old bore," she said simply. "He never came home last Saturday night because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us." "With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered. "He hasn t got the cos... | office, and observe them to be dull, but I don t know what s going on beneath. So, by the way, with London. I have heard you rail against London, Miss Schlegel, and it seems a funny thing to say but I was very angry with you. What do you know about London? You only see civilisation from the outside. I don t say in your... | wash out his brain and go to the real thing. We want to show him how he may get upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the country, some" "--she hesitated--" "either some very dear person or some very dear place seems necessary to relieve life s daily grey, and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should ... | "Oughtn t you really to be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I hardly consid... | the faces of the clerks in my own office, and observe them to be dull, but I don t know what s going on beneath. So, by the way, with London. I have heard you rail against London, Miss Schlegel, and it seems a funny thing to say but I was very angry with you. What do you know about London? You only see civilisation fro... | Howards End |
"Yes, indeed, father." | Evie | put in Mr. Wilcox slyly.<|quote|>"Yes, indeed, father."</|quote|>"He was tramping in Surrey, | "He has apparently got them," put in Mr. Wilcox slyly.<|quote|>"Yes, indeed, father."</|quote|>"He was tramping in Surrey, if you mean that," said | hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside interests." "Naughty young man!" cried the girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin. "When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want outside interests?" "He has apparently got them," put in Mr. Wilcox slyly.<|quote|>"Yes, indeed, fa... | she retreated to what she called her "second line"--to the special facts of the case. "His wife is an old bore," she said simply. "He never came home last Saturday night because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us." "With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered. "He hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. He ne... | be dull, but I don t know what s going on beneath. So, by the way, with London. I have heard you rail against London, Miss Schlegel, and it seems a funny thing to say but I was very angry with you. What do you know about London? You only see civilisation from the outside. I don t say in your case, but in too many cases... | go to the real thing. We want to show him how he may get upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the country, some" "--she hesitated--" "either some very dear person or some very dear place seems necessary to relieve life s daily grey, and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should have both." Some of her... | be more careful?" Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I hardly consider that a fair deduction... | than you intellectuals. We live and let live, and assume that things are jogging on fairly well elsewhere, and that the ordinary plain man may be trusted to look after his own affairs. I quite grant--I look at the faces of the clerks in my own office, and observe them to be dull, but I don t know what s going on beneat... | Howards End |
"He was tramping in Surrey, if you mean that," | Margaret | Wilcox slyly. "Yes, indeed, father."<|quote|>"He was tramping in Surrey, if you mean that,"</|quote|>said Margaret, pacing away rather | got them," put in Mr. Wilcox slyly. "Yes, indeed, father."<|quote|>"He was tramping in Surrey, if you mean that,"</|quote|>said Margaret, pacing away rather crossly. "Oh, I dare say!" | the cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside interests." "Naughty young man!" cried the girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin. "When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want outside interests?" "He has apparently got them," put in Mr. Wilcox slyly. "Yes, indeed, father."<|quote|>"He ... | what she called her "second line"--to the special facts of the case. "His wife is an old bore," she said simply. "He never came home last Saturday night because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us." "With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered. "He hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside inter... | I don t know what s going on beneath. So, by the way, with London. I have heard you rail against London, Miss Schlegel, and it seems a funny thing to say but I was very angry with you. What do you know about London? You only see civilisation from the outside. I don t say in your case, but in too many cases that attitud... | real thing. We want to show him how he may get upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the country, some" "--she hesitated--" "either some very dear person or some very dear place seems necessary to relieve life s daily grey, and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should have both." Some of her words ran... | Margaret laughed, though her thoughts still strayed after Helen. "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I hardly consider that a fair deduction," he said. "Obvio... | goodwill would have brushed it away. Just the senseless fear that does make men intolerable brutes." "I come back to my original point. You ought to be more careful, Miss Schlegel. Your servants ought to have orders not to let such people in." She turned to him frankly. "Let me explain exactly why we like this man, and... | Howards End |
said Margaret, pacing away rather crossly. | No speaker | Surrey, if you mean that,"<|quote|>said Margaret, pacing away rather crossly.</|quote|>"Oh, I dare say!" "Miss | father." "He was tramping in Surrey, if you mean that,"<|quote|>said Margaret, pacing away rather crossly.</|quote|>"Oh, I dare say!" "Miss Wilcox, he was!" "M--m--m--m!" from | interests." "Naughty young man!" cried the girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin. "When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want outside interests?" "He has apparently got them," put in Mr. Wilcox slyly. "Yes, indeed, father." "He was tramping in Surrey, if you mean that,"<|quote|>said M... | of the case. "His wife is an old bore," she said simply. "He never came home last Saturday night because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us." "With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered. "He hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside interests." "Naughty young man!" cried the girl. "Naughty?" s... | So, by the way, with London. I have heard you rail against London, Miss Schlegel, and it seems a funny thing to say but I was very angry with you. What do you know about London? You only see civilisation from the outside. I don t say in your case, but in too many cases that attitude leads to morbidity, discontent, and ... | may get upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the country, some" "--she hesitated--" "either some very dear person or some very dear place seems necessary to relieve life s daily grey, and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should have both." Some of her words ran past Mr. Wilcox. He let them run past.... | "Do you realise that it s all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I hardly consider that a fair deduction," he said. "Obviously unfair," said Margaret. "I was only thinking how tangled thi... | would have brushed it away. Just the senseless fear that does make men intolerable brutes." "I come back to my original point. You ought to be more careful, Miss Schlegel. Your servants ought to have orders not to let such people in." She turned to him frankly. "Let me explain exactly why we like this man, and want to ... | Howards End |
"Oh, I dare say!" | Evie | Margaret, pacing away rather crossly.<|quote|>"Oh, I dare say!"</|quote|>"Miss Wilcox, he was!" "M--m--m--m!" | if you mean that," said Margaret, pacing away rather crossly.<|quote|>"Oh, I dare say!"</|quote|>"Miss Wilcox, he was!" "M--m--m--m!" from Mr. Wilcox, who thought | girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin. "When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want outside interests?" "He has apparently got them," put in Mr. Wilcox slyly. "Yes, indeed, father." "He was tramping in Surrey, if you mean that," said Margaret, pacing away rather crossly.<|quote|>"Oh, I... | an old bore," she said simply. "He never came home last Saturday night because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us." "With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered. "He hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside interests." "Naughty young man!" cried the girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated na... | I have heard you rail against London, Miss Schlegel, and it seems a funny thing to say but I was very angry with you. What do you know about London? You only see civilisation from the outside. I don t say in your case, but in too many cases that attitude leads to morbidity, discontent, and Socialism." She admitted the ... | I said, either friends or the country, some" "--she hesitated--" "either some very dear person or some very dear place seems necessary to relieve life s daily grey, and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should have both." Some of her words ran past Mr. Wilcox. He let them run past. Others he caught and criticis... | all your fault?" she said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I hardly consider that a fair deduction," he said. "Obviously unfair," said Margaret. "I was only thinking how tangled things are. It s our fault mo... | grey, and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should have both." Some of her words ran past Mr. Wilcox. He let them run past. Others he caught and criticised with admirable lucidity. "Your mistake is this, and it is a very common mistake. This young bounder has a life of his own. What right have you to conclude i... | Howards End |
"Miss Wilcox, he was!" | Margaret | crossly. "Oh, I dare say!"<|quote|>"Miss Wilcox, he was!"</|quote|>"M--m--m--m!" from Mr. Wilcox, who | said Margaret, pacing away rather crossly. "Oh, I dare say!"<|quote|>"Miss Wilcox, he was!"</|quote|>"M--m--m--m!" from Mr. Wilcox, who thought the episode amusing, if | who hated naughtiness more than sin. "When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want outside interests?" "He has apparently got them," put in Mr. Wilcox slyly. "Yes, indeed, father." "He was tramping in Surrey, if you mean that," said Margaret, pacing away rather crossly. "Oh, I dare say!"<|quote|>"Miss Wilcox, he was... | said simply. "He never came home last Saturday night because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us." "With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered. "He hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside interests." "Naughty young man!" cried the girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more tha... | rail against London, Miss Schlegel, and it seems a funny thing to say but I was very angry with you. What do you know about London? You only see civilisation from the outside. I don t say in your case, but in too many cases that attitude leads to morbidity, discontent, and Socialism." She admitted the strength of his p... | or the country, some" "--she hesitated--" "either some very dear person or some very dear place seems necessary to relieve life s daily grey, and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should have both." Some of her words ran past Mr. Wilcox. He let them run past. Others he caught and criticised with admirable lucid... | said. "You re responsible." "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I hardly consider that a fair deduction," he said. "Obviously unfair," said Margaret. "I was only thinking how tangled things are. It s our fault mostly--neither yours n... | children, snug little home. That s where we practical fellows" he smiled--" "are more tolerant than you intellectuals. We live and let live, and assume that things are jogging on fairly well elsewhere, and that the ordinary plain man may be trusted to look after his own affairs. I quite grant--I look at the faces of th... | Howards End |
"M--m--m--m!" | Henry | say!" "Miss Wilcox, he was!"<|quote|>"M--m--m--m!"</|quote|>from Mr. Wilcox, who thought | rather crossly. "Oh, I dare say!" "Miss Wilcox, he was!"<|quote|>"M--m--m--m!"</|quote|>from Mr. Wilcox, who thought the episode amusing, if risque. | than sin. "When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want outside interests?" "He has apparently got them," put in Mr. Wilcox slyly. "Yes, indeed, father." "He was tramping in Surrey, if you mean that," said Margaret, pacing away rather crossly. "Oh, I dare say!" "Miss Wilcox, he was!"<|quote|>"M--m--m--m!"</|quote|>f... | came home last Saturday night because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us." "With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered. "He hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside interests." "Naughty young man!" cried the girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin. "When you re mar... | Schlegel, and it seems a funny thing to say but I was very angry with you. What do you know about London? You only see civilisation from the outside. I don t say in your case, but in too many cases that attitude leads to morbidity, discontent, and Socialism." She admitted the strength of his position, though it undermi... | "--she hesitated--" "either some very dear person or some very dear place seems necessary to relieve life s daily grey, and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should have both." Some of her words ran past Mr. Wilcox. He let them run past. Others he caught and criticised with admirable lucidity. "Your mistake is ... | "I?" "This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I hardly consider that a fair deduction," he said. "Obviously unfair," said Margaret. "I was only thinking how tangled things are. It s our fault mostly--neither yours nor his." "Not his?" "No." "M... | it away. Just the senseless fear that does make men intolerable brutes." "I come back to my original point. You ought to be more careful, Miss Schlegel. Your servants ought to have orders not to let such people in." She turned to him frankly. "Let me explain exactly why we like this man, and want to see him again." "Th... | Howards End |
from Mr. Wilcox, who thought the episode amusing, if risque. With most ladies he would not have discussed it, but he was trading on Margaret s reputation as an emancipated woman. | No speaker | "Miss Wilcox, he was!" "M--m--m--m!"<|quote|>from Mr. Wilcox, who thought the episode amusing, if risque. With most ladies he would not have discussed it, but he was trading on Margaret s reputation as an emancipated woman.</|quote|>"He said so, and about | crossly. "Oh, I dare say!" "Miss Wilcox, he was!" "M--m--m--m!"<|quote|>from Mr. Wilcox, who thought the episode amusing, if risque. With most ladies he would not have discussed it, but he was trading on Margaret s reputation as an emancipated woman.</|quote|>"He said so, and about such a thing he wouldn | sin. "When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want outside interests?" "He has apparently got them," put in Mr. Wilcox slyly. "Yes, indeed, father." "He was tramping in Surrey, if you mean that," said Margaret, pacing away rather crossly. "Oh, I dare say!" "Miss Wilcox, he was!" "M--m--m--m!"<|quote|>from Mr. Wilcox... | home last Saturday night because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us." "With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered. "He hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside interests." "Naughty young man!" cried the girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin. "When you re married ... | and it seems a funny thing to say but I was very angry with you. What do you know about London? You only see civilisation from the outside. I don t say in your case, but in too many cases that attitude leads to morbidity, discontent, and Socialism." She admitted the strength of his position, though it undermined imagin... | hesitated--" "either some very dear person or some very dear place seems necessary to relieve life s daily grey, and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should have both." Some of her words ran past Mr. Wilcox. He let them run past. Others he caught and criticised with admirable lucidity. "Your mistake is this, a... | "This is the young man whom we were to warn against the Porphyrion. We warn him, and--look!" Mr. Wilcox was annoyed. "I hardly consider that a fair deduction," he said. "Obviously unfair," said Margaret. "I was only thinking how tangled things are. It s our fault mostly--neither yours nor his." "Not his?" "No." "Miss S... | loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go to the real thing. We want to show him how he may get upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the country, some" "--she hesitated--" "either some very dear person or some very dear place see... | Howards End |
"He said so, and about such a thing he wouldn t lie." | Margaret | reputation as an emancipated woman.<|quote|>"He said so, and about such a thing he wouldn t lie."</|quote|>They both began to laugh. | was trading on Margaret s reputation as an emancipated woman.<|quote|>"He said so, and about such a thing he wouldn t lie."</|quote|>They both began to laugh. "That s where I differ | if you mean that," said Margaret, pacing away rather crossly. "Oh, I dare say!" "Miss Wilcox, he was!" "M--m--m--m!" from Mr. Wilcox, who thought the episode amusing, if risque. With most ladies he would not have discussed it, but he was trading on Margaret s reputation as an emancipated woman.<|quote|>"He said so, and... | assumed. He needs outside interests." "Naughty young man!" cried the girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin. "When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want outside interests?" "He has apparently got them," put in Mr. Wilcox slyly. "Yes, indeed, father." "He was tramping in Surrey, if you ... | say in your case, but in too many cases that attitude leads to morbidity, discontent, and Socialism." She admitted the strength of his position, though it undermined imagination. As he spoke, some outposts of poetry and perhaps of sympathy fell ruining, and she retreated to what she called her "second line"--to the spe... | both." Some of her words ran past Mr. Wilcox. He let them run past. Others he caught and criticised with admirable lucidity. "Your mistake is this, and it is a very common mistake. This young bounder has a life of his own. What right have you to conclude it is an unsuccessful life, or, as you call it, grey ?" "Because-... | unfair," said Margaret. "I was only thinking how tangled things are. It s our fault mostly--neither yours nor his." "Not his?" "No." "Miss Schlegel, you are too kind." "Yes, indeed," nodded Evie, a little contemptuously. "You behave much too well to people, and then they impose on you. I know the world and that type of... | way, with London. I have heard you rail against London, Miss Schlegel, and it seems a funny thing to say but I was very angry with you. What do you know about London? You only see civilisation from the outside. I don t say in your case, but in too many cases that attitude leads to morbidity, discontent, and Socialism."... | Howards End |
They both began to laugh. | No speaker | thing he wouldn t lie."<|quote|>They both began to laugh.</|quote|>"That s where I differ | so, and about such a thing he wouldn t lie."<|quote|>They both began to laugh.</|quote|>"That s where I differ from you. Men lie about | dare say!" "Miss Wilcox, he was!" "M--m--m--m!" from Mr. Wilcox, who thought the episode amusing, if risque. With most ladies he would not have discussed it, but he was trading on Margaret s reputation as an emancipated woman. "He said so, and about such a thing he wouldn t lie."<|quote|>They both began to laugh.</|quo... | said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin. "When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want outside interests?" "He has apparently got them," put in Mr. Wilcox slyly. "Yes, indeed, father." "He was tramping in Surrey, if you mean that," said Margaret, pacing away rather crossly. "Oh, I dare say!" "Miss Wilcox,... | to morbidity, discontent, and Socialism." She admitted the strength of his position, though it undermined imagination. As he spoke, some outposts of poetry and perhaps of sympathy fell ruining, and she retreated to what she called her "second line"--to the special facts of the case. "His wife is an old bore," she said ... | run past. Others he caught and criticised with admirable lucidity. "Your mistake is this, and it is a very common mistake. This young bounder has a life of his own. What right have you to conclude it is an unsuccessful life, or, as you call it, grey ?" "Because--" "One minute. You know nothing about him. He probably ha... | s our fault mostly--neither yours nor his." "Not his?" "No." "Miss Schlegel, you are too kind." "Yes, indeed," nodded Evie, a little contemptuously. "You behave much too well to people, and then they impose on you. I know the world and that type of man, and as soon as I entered the room I saw you had not been treating ... | "Let me explain exactly why we like this man, and want to see him again." "That s your clever way of talking. I shall never believe you like him." "I do. Firstly, because he cares for physical adventure, just as you do. Yes, you go motoring and shooting; he would like to go camping out. Secondly, he cares for something... | Howards End |
"That s where I differ from you. Men lie about their positions and prospects, but not about a thing of that sort." | Margaret | They both began to laugh.<|quote|>"That s where I differ from you. Men lie about their positions and prospects, but not about a thing of that sort."</|quote|>He shook his head. "Miss | thing he wouldn t lie." They both began to laugh.<|quote|>"That s where I differ from you. Men lie about their positions and prospects, but not about a thing of that sort."</|quote|>He shook his head. "Miss Schlegel, excuse me, but I | was!" "M--m--m--m!" from Mr. Wilcox, who thought the episode amusing, if risque. With most ladies he would not have discussed it, but he was trading on Margaret s reputation as an emancipated woman. "He said so, and about such a thing he wouldn t lie." They both began to laugh.<|quote|>"That s where I differ from you. ... | more than sin. "When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want outside interests?" "He has apparently got them," put in Mr. Wilcox slyly. "Yes, indeed, father." "He was tramping in Surrey, if you mean that," said Margaret, pacing away rather crossly. "Oh, I dare say!" "Miss Wilcox, he was!" "M--m--m--m!" from Mr. Wilc... | She admitted the strength of his position, though it undermined imagination. As he spoke, some outposts of poetry and perhaps of sympathy fell ruining, and she retreated to what she called her "second line"--to the special facts of the case. "His wife is an old bore," she said simply. "He never came home last Saturday ... | and criticised with admirable lucidity. "Your mistake is this, and it is a very common mistake. This young bounder has a life of his own. What right have you to conclude it is an unsuccessful life, or, as you call it, grey ?" "Because--" "One minute. You know nothing about him. He probably has his own joys and interest... | nor his." "Not his?" "No." "Miss Schlegel, you are too kind." "Yes, indeed," nodded Evie, a little contemptuously. "You behave much too well to people, and then they impose on you. I know the world and that type of man, and as soon as I entered the room I saw you had not been treating him properly. You must keep that t... | in too many cases that attitude leads to morbidity, discontent, and Socialism." She admitted the strength of his position, though it undermined imagination. As he spoke, some outposts of poetry and perhaps of sympathy fell ruining, and she retreated to what she called her "second line"--to the special facts of the case... | Howards End |
He shook his head. | No speaker | a thing of that sort."<|quote|>He shook his head.</|quote|>"Miss Schlegel, excuse me, but | and prospects, but not about a thing of that sort."<|quote|>He shook his head.</|quote|>"Miss Schlegel, excuse me, but I know the type." "I | he was trading on Margaret s reputation as an emancipated woman. "He said so, and about such a thing he wouldn t lie." They both began to laugh. "That s where I differ from you. Men lie about their positions and prospects, but not about a thing of that sort."<|quote|>He shook his head.</|quote|>"Miss Schlegel, excuse m... | Mr. Wilcox slyly. "Yes, indeed, father." "He was tramping in Surrey, if you mean that," said Margaret, pacing away rather crossly. "Oh, I dare say!" "Miss Wilcox, he was!" "M--m--m--m!" from Mr. Wilcox, who thought the episode amusing, if risque. With most ladies he would not have discussed it, but he was trading on Ma... | fell ruining, and she retreated to what she called her "second line"--to the special facts of the case. "His wife is an old bore," she said simply. "He never came home last Saturday night because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us." "With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered. "He hasn t got the cosy home that ... | of his own. What right have you to conclude it is an unsuccessful life, or, as you call it, grey ?" "Because--" "One minute. You know nothing about him. He probably has his own joys and interests--wife, children, snug little home. That s where we practical fellows" he smiled--" "are more tolerant than you intellectuals... | well to people, and then they impose on you. I know the world and that type of man, and as soon as I entered the room I saw you had not been treating him properly. You must keep that type at a distance. Otherwise they forget themselves. Sad, but true. They aren t our sort, and one must face the fact." "Ye--es." "Do adm... | mean he may be, but it would be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go to the real thing. We want to show him how he may get upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the country, some" "--she hesitated--" "either some very dear pe... | Howards End |
"Miss Schlegel, excuse me, but I know the type." | Henry | sort." He shook his head.<|quote|>"Miss Schlegel, excuse me, but I know the type."</|quote|>"I said before--he isn t | about a thing of that sort." He shook his head.<|quote|>"Miss Schlegel, excuse me, but I know the type."</|quote|>"I said before--he isn t a type. He cares about | Margaret s reputation as an emancipated woman. "He said so, and about such a thing he wouldn t lie." They both began to laugh. "That s where I differ from you. Men lie about their positions and prospects, but not about a thing of that sort." He shook his head.<|quote|>"Miss Schlegel, excuse me, but I know the type."</|... | indeed, father." "He was tramping in Surrey, if you mean that," said Margaret, pacing away rather crossly. "Oh, I dare say!" "Miss Wilcox, he was!" "M--m--m--m!" from Mr. Wilcox, who thought the episode amusing, if risque. With most ladies he would not have discussed it, but he was trading on Margaret s reputation as a... | retreated to what she called her "second line"--to the special facts of the case. "His wife is an old bore," she said simply. "He never came home last Saturday night because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us." "With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered. "He hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. He needs ... | right have you to conclude it is an unsuccessful life, or, as you call it, grey ?" "Because--" "One minute. You know nothing about him. He probably has his own joys and interests--wife, children, snug little home. That s where we practical fellows" he smiled--" "are more tolerant than you intellectuals. We live and let... | then they impose on you. I know the world and that type of man, and as soon as I entered the room I saw you had not been treating him properly. You must keep that type at a distance. Otherwise they forget themselves. Sad, but true. They aren t our sort, and one must face the fact." "Ye--es." "Do admit that we should ne... | cases that attitude leads to morbidity, discontent, and Socialism." She admitted the strength of his position, though it undermined imagination. As he spoke, some outposts of poetry and perhaps of sympathy fell ruining, and she retreated to what she called her "second line"--to the special facts of the case. "His wife ... | Howards End |
"I said before--he isn t a type. He cares about adventures rightly. He s certain that our smug existence isn t all. He s vulgar and hysterical and bookish, but don t think that sums him up. There s manhood in him as well. Yes, that s what I m trying to say. He s a real man." | Margaret | but I know the type."<|quote|>"I said before--he isn t a type. He cares about adventures rightly. He s certain that our smug existence isn t all. He s vulgar and hysterical and bookish, but don t think that sums him up. There s manhood in him as well. Yes, that s what I m trying to say. He s a real man."</|quote|>As sh... | head. "Miss Schlegel, excuse me, but I know the type."<|quote|>"I said before--he isn t a type. He cares about adventures rightly. He s certain that our smug existence isn t all. He s vulgar and hysterical and bookish, but don t think that sums him up. There s manhood in him as well. Yes, that s what I m trying to say.... | so, and about such a thing he wouldn t lie." They both began to laugh. "That s where I differ from you. Men lie about their positions and prospects, but not about a thing of that sort." He shook his head. "Miss Schlegel, excuse me, but I know the type."<|quote|>"I said before--he isn t a type. He cares about adventures... | mean that," said Margaret, pacing away rather crossly. "Oh, I dare say!" "Miss Wilcox, he was!" "M--m--m--m!" from Mr. Wilcox, who thought the episode amusing, if risque. With most ladies he would not have discussed it, but he was trading on Margaret s reputation as an emancipated woman. "He said so, and about such a t... | special facts of the case. "His wife is an old bore," she said simply. "He never came home last Saturday night because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us." "With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered. "He hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside interests." "Naughty young man!" cried the girl... | life, or, as you call it, grey ?" "Because--" "One minute. You know nothing about him. He probably has his own joys and interests--wife, children, snug little home. That s where we practical fellows" he smiled--" "are more tolerant than you intellectuals. We live and let live, and assume that things are jogging on fair... | and that type of man, and as soon as I entered the room I saw you had not been treating him properly. You must keep that type at a distance. Otherwise they forget themselves. Sad, but true. They aren t our sort, and one must face the fact." "Ye--es." "Do admit that we should never have had the outburst if he was a gent... | would be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go to the real thing. We want to show him how he may get upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the country, some" "--she hesitated--" "either some very dear person or some very dear ... | Howards End |
As she spoke their eyes met, and it was as if Mr. Wilcox s defences fell. She saw back to the real man in him. Unwittingly she had touched his emotions. A woman and two men--they had formed the magic triangle of sex, and the male was thrilled to jealousy, in case the female was attracted by another male. Love, say the ... | No speaker | He s a real man."<|quote|>As she spoke their eyes met, and it was as if Mr. Wilcox s defences fell. She saw back to the real man in him. Unwittingly she had touched his emotions. A woman and two men--they had formed the magic triangle of sex, and the male was thrilled to jealousy, in case the female was attracted by an... | I m trying to say. He s a real man."<|quote|>As she spoke their eyes met, and it was as if Mr. Wilcox s defences fell. She saw back to the real man in him. Unwittingly she had touched his emotions. A woman and two men--they had formed the magic triangle of sex, and the male was thrilled to jealousy, in case the female ... | cares about adventures rightly. He s certain that our smug existence isn t all. He s vulgar and hysterical and bookish, but don t think that sums him up. There s manhood in him as well. Yes, that s what I m trying to say. He s a real man."<|quote|>As she spoke their eyes met, and it was as if Mr. Wilcox s defences fell... | t lie." They both began to laugh. "That s where I differ from you. Men lie about their positions and prospects, but not about a thing of that sort." He shook his head. "Miss Schlegel, excuse me, but I know the type." "I said before--he isn t a type. He cares about adventures rightly. He s certain that our smug existenc... | girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin. "When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want outside interests?" "He has apparently got them," put in Mr. Wilcox slyly. "Yes, indeed, father." "He was tramping in Surrey, if you mean that," said Margaret, pacing away rather crossly. "Oh, I dare sa... | that the ordinary plain man may be trusted to look after his own affairs. I quite grant--I look at the faces of the clerks in my own office, and observe them to be dull, but I don t know what s going on beneath. So, by the way, with London. I have heard you rail against London, Miss Schlegel, and it seems a funny thing... | outburst if he was a gentleman." "I admit it willingly," said Margaret, who was pacing up and down the room. "A gentleman would have kept his suspicions to himself." Mr. Wilcox watched her with a vague uneasiness. "What did he suspect you of?" "Of wanting to make money out of him." "Intolerable brute! But how were you ... | has a life of his own. What right have you to conclude it is an unsuccessful life, or, as you call it, grey ?" "Because--" "One minute. You know nothing about him. He probably has his own joys and interests--wife, children, snug little home. That s where we practical fellows" he smiled--" "are more tolerant than you in... | Howards End |
"Miss Schlegel, you re a pair of dear creatures, but you really MUST be careful in this uncharitable world. What does your brother say?" | Henry | a bastion to the world.<|quote|>"Miss Schlegel, you re a pair of dear creatures, but you really MUST be careful in this uncharitable world. What does your brother say?"</|quote|>"I forget." "Surely he has | defences, and was again presenting a bastion to the world.<|quote|>"Miss Schlegel, you re a pair of dear creatures, but you really MUST be careful in this uncharitable world. What does your brother say?"</|quote|>"I forget." "Surely he has some opinion?" "He laughs, if | that connects us with the farmyard intolerably, and calls up visions of two angry cocks and a complacent hen. Margaret crushed complacency down because she was civilised. Mr. Wilcox, uncivilised, continued to feel anger long after he had rebuilt his defences, and was again presenting a bastion to the world.<|quote|>"Mi... | formed the magic triangle of sex, and the male was thrilled to jealousy, in case the female was attracted by another male. Love, say the ascetics, reveals our shameful kinship with the beasts. Be it so: one can bear that; jealousy is the real shame. It is jealousy, not love, that connects us with the farmyard intolerab... | but I know the type." "I said before--he isn t a type. He cares about adventures rightly. He s certain that our smug existence isn t all. He s vulgar and hysterical and bookish, but don t think that sums him up. There s manhood in him as well. Yes, that s what I m trying to say. He s a real man." As she spoke their eye... | called her "second line"--to the special facts of the case. "His wife is an old bore," she said simply. "He never came home last Saturday night because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us." "With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered. "He hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside interests." "N... | your clever way of talking. I shall never believe you like him." "I do. Firstly, because he cares for physical adventure, just as you do. Yes, you go motoring and shooting; he would like to go camping out. Secondly, he cares for something special IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--" "Oh... | night because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us." "With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered. "He hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside interests." "Naughty young man!" cried the girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin. "When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t ... | Howards End |
"I forget." | Margaret | What does your brother say?"<|quote|>"I forget."</|quote|>"Surely he has some opinion?" | careful in this uncharitable world. What does your brother say?"<|quote|>"I forget."</|quote|>"Surely he has some opinion?" "He laughs, if I remember | she was civilised. Mr. Wilcox, uncivilised, continued to feel anger long after he had rebuilt his defences, and was again presenting a bastion to the world. "Miss Schlegel, you re a pair of dear creatures, but you really MUST be careful in this uncharitable world. What does your brother say?"<|quote|>"I forget."</|quot... | the ascetics, reveals our shameful kinship with the beasts. Be it so: one can bear that; jealousy is the real shame. It is jealousy, not love, that connects us with the farmyard intolerably, and calls up visions of two angry cocks and a complacent hen. Margaret crushed complacency down because she was civilised. Mr. Wi... | isn t all. He s vulgar and hysterical and bookish, but don t think that sums him up. There s manhood in him as well. Yes, that s what I m trying to say. He s a real man." As she spoke their eyes met, and it was as if Mr. Wilcox s defences fell. She saw back to the real man in him. Unwittingly she had touched his emotio... | Saturday night because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us." "With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered. "He hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside interests." "Naughty young man!" cried the girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin. "When you re married Miss Wilco... | do. Yes, you go motoring and shooting; he would like to go camping out. Secondly, he cares for something special IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--" "Oh, he s one of that writer sort." "No--oh no! I mean he may be, but it would be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of ... | faces of the clerks in my own office, and observe them to be dull, but I don t know what s going on beneath. So, by the way, with London. I have heard you rail against London, Miss Schlegel, and it seems a funny thing to say but I was very angry with you. What do you know about London? You only see civilisation from th... | Howards End |
"Surely he has some opinion?" | Henry | your brother say?" "I forget."<|quote|>"Surely he has some opinion?"</|quote|>"He laughs, if I remember | this uncharitable world. What does your brother say?" "I forget."<|quote|>"Surely he has some opinion?"</|quote|>"He laughs, if I remember correctly." "He s very clever, | civilised. Mr. Wilcox, uncivilised, continued to feel anger long after he had rebuilt his defences, and was again presenting a bastion to the world. "Miss Schlegel, you re a pair of dear creatures, but you really MUST be careful in this uncharitable world. What does your brother say?" "I forget."<|quote|>"Surely he has... | reveals our shameful kinship with the beasts. Be it so: one can bear that; jealousy is the real shame. It is jealousy, not love, that connects us with the farmyard intolerably, and calls up visions of two angry cocks and a complacent hen. Margaret crushed complacency down because she was civilised. Mr. Wilcox, uncivili... | all. He s vulgar and hysterical and bookish, but don t think that sums him up. There s manhood in him as well. Yes, that s what I m trying to say. He s a real man." As she spoke their eyes met, and it was as if Mr. Wilcox s defences fell. She saw back to the real man in him. Unwittingly she had touched his emotions. A ... | because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us." "With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered. "He hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside interests." "Naughty young man!" cried the girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin. "When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you wa... | you go motoring and shooting; he would like to go camping out. Secondly, he cares for something special IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--" "Oh, he s one of that writer sort." "No--oh no! I mean he may be, but it would be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, cu... | adventures rightly. He s certain that our smug existence isn t all. He s vulgar and hysterical and bookish, but don t think that sums him up. There s manhood in him as well. Yes, that s what I m trying to say. He s a real man." As she spoke their eyes met, and it was as if Mr. Wilcox s defences fell. She saw back to th... | Howards End |
"He laughs, if I remember correctly." | Margaret | "Surely he has some opinion?"<|quote|>"He laughs, if I remember correctly."</|quote|>"He s very clever, isn | your brother say?" "I forget." "Surely he has some opinion?"<|quote|>"He laughs, if I remember correctly."</|quote|>"He s very clever, isn t he?" said Evie, who | to feel anger long after he had rebuilt his defences, and was again presenting a bastion to the world. "Miss Schlegel, you re a pair of dear creatures, but you really MUST be careful in this uncharitable world. What does your brother say?" "I forget." "Surely he has some opinion?"<|quote|>"He laughs, if I remember corr... | the beasts. Be it so: one can bear that; jealousy is the real shame. It is jealousy, not love, that connects us with the farmyard intolerably, and calls up visions of two angry cocks and a complacent hen. Margaret crushed complacency down because she was civilised. Mr. Wilcox, uncivilised, continued to feel anger long ... | hysterical and bookish, but don t think that sums him up. There s manhood in him as well. Yes, that s what I m trying to say. He s a real man." As she spoke their eyes met, and it was as if Mr. Wilcox s defences fell. She saw back to the real man in him. Unwittingly she had touched his emotions. A woman and two men--th... | alone, and she thought he was with us." "With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered. "He hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside interests." "Naughty young man!" cried the girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin. "When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want outside interests?" "... | he would like to go camping out. Secondly, he cares for something special IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--" "Oh, he s one of that writer sort." "No--oh no! I mean he may be, but it would be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him t... | said Margaret, pacing away rather crossly. "Oh, I dare say!" "Miss Wilcox, he was!" "M--m--m--m!" from Mr. Wilcox, who thought the episode amusing, if risque. With most ladies he would not have discussed it, but he was trading on Margaret s reputation as an emancipated woman. "He said so, and about such a thing he woul... | Howards End |
"He s very clever, isn t he?" | Evie | laughs, if I remember correctly."<|quote|>"He s very clever, isn t he?"</|quote|>said Evie, who had met | he has some opinion?" "He laughs, if I remember correctly."<|quote|>"He s very clever, isn t he?"</|quote|>said Evie, who had met and detested Tibby at Oxford. | had rebuilt his defences, and was again presenting a bastion to the world. "Miss Schlegel, you re a pair of dear creatures, but you really MUST be careful in this uncharitable world. What does your brother say?" "I forget." "Surely he has some opinion?" "He laughs, if I remember correctly."<|quote|>"He s very clever, i... | can bear that; jealousy is the real shame. It is jealousy, not love, that connects us with the farmyard intolerably, and calls up visions of two angry cocks and a complacent hen. Margaret crushed complacency down because she was civilised. Mr. Wilcox, uncivilised, continued to feel anger long after he had rebuilt his d... | think that sums him up. There s manhood in him as well. Yes, that s what I m trying to say. He s a real man." As she spoke their eyes met, and it was as if Mr. Wilcox s defences fell. She saw back to the real man in him. Unwittingly she had touched his emotions. A woman and two men--they had formed the magic triangle o... | with us." "With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered. "He hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside interests." "Naughty young man!" cried the girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin. "When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want outside interests?" "He has apparently got them," p... | out. Secondly, he cares for something special IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--" "Oh, he s one of that writer sort." "No--oh no! I mean he may be, but it would be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go ... | only see civilisation from the outside. I don t say in your case, but in too many cases that attitude leads to morbidity, discontent, and Socialism." She admitted the strength of his position, though it undermined imagination. As he spoke, some outposts of poetry and perhaps of sympathy fell ruining, and she retreated ... | Howards End |
said Evie, who had met and detested Tibby at Oxford. | No speaker | very clever, isn t he?"<|quote|>said Evie, who had met and detested Tibby at Oxford.</|quote|>"Yes, pretty well--but I wonder | I remember correctly." "He s very clever, isn t he?"<|quote|>said Evie, who had met and detested Tibby at Oxford.</|quote|>"Yes, pretty well--but I wonder what Helen s doing." "She | presenting a bastion to the world. "Miss Schlegel, you re a pair of dear creatures, but you really MUST be careful in this uncharitable world. What does your brother say?" "I forget." "Surely he has some opinion?" "He laughs, if I remember correctly." "He s very clever, isn t he?"<|quote|>said Evie, who had met and det... | shame. It is jealousy, not love, that connects us with the farmyard intolerably, and calls up visions of two angry cocks and a complacent hen. Margaret crushed complacency down because she was civilised. Mr. Wilcox, uncivilised, continued to feel anger long after he had rebuilt his defences, and was again presenting a ... | manhood in him as well. Yes, that s what I m trying to say. He s a real man." As she spoke their eyes met, and it was as if Mr. Wilcox s defences fell. She saw back to the real man in him. Unwittingly she had touched his emotions. A woman and two men--they had formed the magic triangle of sex, and the male was thrilled... | "He hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside interests." "Naughty young man!" cried the girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin. "When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want outside interests?" "He has apparently got them," put in Mr. Wilcox slyly. "Yes, indeed, father... | IN adventure. It is quickest to call that special something poetry--" "Oh, he s one of that writer sort." "No--oh no! I mean he may be, but it would be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go to the real thing. We want to show him how he ... | you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want outside interests?" "He has apparently got them," put in Mr. Wilcox slyly. "Yes, indeed, father." "He was tramping in Surrey, if you mean that," said Margaret, pacing away rather crossly. "Oh, I dare say!" "Miss Wilcox, he was!" "M--m--m--m!" from Mr. Wilcox, who thought the e... | Howards End |
"Yes, pretty well--but I wonder what Helen s doing." | Margaret | and detested Tibby at Oxford.<|quote|>"Yes, pretty well--but I wonder what Helen s doing."</|quote|>"She is very young to | said Evie, who had met and detested Tibby at Oxford.<|quote|>"Yes, pretty well--but I wonder what Helen s doing."</|quote|>"She is very young to undertake this sort of thing," | a pair of dear creatures, but you really MUST be careful in this uncharitable world. What does your brother say?" "I forget." "Surely he has some opinion?" "He laughs, if I remember correctly." "He s very clever, isn t he?" said Evie, who had met and detested Tibby at Oxford.<|quote|>"Yes, pretty well--but I wonder wha... | the farmyard intolerably, and calls up visions of two angry cocks and a complacent hen. Margaret crushed complacency down because she was civilised. Mr. Wilcox, uncivilised, continued to feel anger long after he had rebuilt his defences, and was again presenting a bastion to the world. "Miss Schlegel, you re a pair of ... | m trying to say. He s a real man." As she spoke their eyes met, and it was as if Mr. Wilcox s defences fell. She saw back to the real man in him. Unwittingly she had touched his emotions. A woman and two men--they had formed the magic triangle of sex, and the male was thrilled to jealousy, in case the female was attrac... | He needs outside interests." "Naughty young man!" cried the girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin. "When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want outside interests?" "He has apparently got them," put in Mr. Wilcox slyly. "Yes, indeed, father." "He was tramping in Surrey, if you mean that... | poetry--" "Oh, he s one of that writer sort." "No--oh no! I mean he may be, but it would be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go to the real thing. We want to show him how he may get upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the ... | look after his own affairs. I quite grant--I look at the faces of the clerks in my own office, and observe them to be dull, but I don t know what s going on beneath. So, by the way, with London. I have heard you rail against London, Miss Schlegel, and it seems a funny thing to say but I was very angry with you. What do... | Howards End |
"She is very young to undertake this sort of thing," | Henry | wonder what Helen s doing."<|quote|>"She is very young to undertake this sort of thing,"</|quote|>said Mr. Wilcox. Margaret went | Oxford. "Yes, pretty well--but I wonder what Helen s doing."<|quote|>"She is very young to undertake this sort of thing,"</|quote|>said Mr. Wilcox. Margaret went out to the landing. She | be careful in this uncharitable world. What does your brother say?" "I forget." "Surely he has some opinion?" "He laughs, if I remember correctly." "He s very clever, isn t he?" said Evie, who had met and detested Tibby at Oxford. "Yes, pretty well--but I wonder what Helen s doing."<|quote|>"She is very young to undert... | angry cocks and a complacent hen. Margaret crushed complacency down because she was civilised. Mr. Wilcox, uncivilised, continued to feel anger long after he had rebuilt his defences, and was again presenting a bastion to the world. "Miss Schlegel, you re a pair of dear creatures, but you really MUST be careful in this... | As she spoke their eyes met, and it was as if Mr. Wilcox s defences fell. She saw back to the real man in him. Unwittingly she had touched his emotions. A woman and two men--they had formed the magic triangle of sex, and the male was thrilled to jealousy, in case the female was attracted by another male. Love, say the ... | girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin. "When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want outside interests?" "He has apparently got them," put in Mr. Wilcox slyly. "Yes, indeed, father." "He was tramping in Surrey, if you mean that," said Margaret, pacing away rather crossly. "Oh, I dare sa... | "No--oh no! I mean he may be, but it would be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go to the real thing. We want to show him how he may get upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the country, some" "--she hesitated--" "either som... | to look after his own affairs. I quite grant--I look at the faces of the clerks in my own office, and observe them to be dull, but I don t know what s going on beneath. So, by the way, with London. I have heard you rail against London, Miss Schlegel, and it seems a funny thing to say but I was very angry with you. What... | Howards End |
said Mr. Wilcox. Margaret went out to the landing. She heard no sound, and Mr. Bast s topper was missing from the hall. | No speaker | undertake this sort of thing,"<|quote|>said Mr. Wilcox. Margaret went out to the landing. She heard no sound, and Mr. Bast s topper was missing from the hall.</|quote|>"Helen!" she called. "Yes!" replied | "She is very young to undertake this sort of thing,"<|quote|>said Mr. Wilcox. Margaret went out to the landing. She heard no sound, and Mr. Bast s topper was missing from the hall.</|quote|>"Helen!" she called. "Yes!" replied a voice from the library. | say?" "I forget." "Surely he has some opinion?" "He laughs, if I remember correctly." "He s very clever, isn t he?" said Evie, who had met and detested Tibby at Oxford. "Yes, pretty well--but I wonder what Helen s doing." "She is very young to undertake this sort of thing,"<|quote|>said Mr. Wilcox. Margaret went out to... | because she was civilised. Mr. Wilcox, uncivilised, continued to feel anger long after he had rebuilt his defences, and was again presenting a bastion to the world. "Miss Schlegel, you re a pair of dear creatures, but you really MUST be careful in this uncharitable world. What does your brother say?" "I forget." "Surel... | if Mr. Wilcox s defences fell. She saw back to the real man in him. Unwittingly she had touched his emotions. A woman and two men--they had formed the magic triangle of sex, and the male was thrilled to jealousy, in case the female was attracted by another male. Love, say the ascetics, reveals our shameful kinship with... | "When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want outside interests?" "He has apparently got them," put in Mr. Wilcox slyly. "Yes, indeed, father." "He was tramping in Surrey, if you mean that," said Margaret, pacing away rather crossly. "Oh, I dare say!" "Miss Wilcox, he was!" "M--m--m--m!" from Mr. Wilcox, who thought... | be loathsome stuff. His brain is filled with the husks of books, culture--horrible; we want him to wash out his brain and go to the real thing. We want to show him how he may get upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the country, some" "--she hesitated--" "either some very dear person or some very dear place ... | of the clerks in my own office, and observe them to be dull, but I don t know what s going on beneath. So, by the way, with London. I have heard you rail against London, Miss Schlegel, and it seems a funny thing to say but I was very angry with you. What do you know about London? You only see civilisation from the outs... | Howards End |
"Helen!" | Margaret | was missing from the hall.<|quote|>"Helen!"</|quote|>she called. "Yes!" replied a | and Mr. Bast s topper was missing from the hall.<|quote|>"Helen!"</|quote|>she called. "Yes!" replied a voice from the library. "You | who had met and detested Tibby at Oxford. "Yes, pretty well--but I wonder what Helen s doing." "She is very young to undertake this sort of thing," said Mr. Wilcox. Margaret went out to the landing. She heard no sound, and Mr. Bast s topper was missing from the hall.<|quote|>"Helen!"</|quote|>she called. "Yes!" replied... | bastion to the world. "Miss Schlegel, you re a pair of dear creatures, but you really MUST be careful in this uncharitable world. What does your brother say?" "I forget." "Surely he has some opinion?" "He laughs, if I remember correctly." "He s very clever, isn t he?" said Evie, who had met and detested Tibby at Oxford... | and two men--they had formed the magic triangle of sex, and the male was thrilled to jealousy, in case the female was attracted by another male. Love, say the ascetics, reveals our shameful kinship with the beasts. Be it so: one can bear that; jealousy is the real shame. It is jealousy, not love, that connects us with ... | indeed, father." "He was tramping in Surrey, if you mean that," said Margaret, pacing away rather crossly. "Oh, I dare say!" "Miss Wilcox, he was!" "M--m--m--m!" from Mr. Wilcox, who thought the episode amusing, if risque. With most ladies he would not have discussed it, but he was trading on Margaret s reputation as a... | to the real thing. We want to show him how he may get upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the country, some" "--she hesitated--" "either some very dear person or some very dear place seems necessary to relieve life s daily grey, and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should have both." Some of her wo... | dull, but I don t know what s going on beneath. So, by the way, with London. I have heard you rail against London, Miss Schlegel, and it seems a funny thing to say but I was very angry with you. What do you know about London? You only see civilisation from the outside. I don t say in your case, but in too many cases th... | Howards End |
she called. | No speaker | missing from the hall. "Helen!"<|quote|>she called.</|quote|>"Yes!" replied a voice from | Mr. Bast s topper was missing from the hall. "Helen!"<|quote|>she called.</|quote|>"Yes!" replied a voice from the library. "You in there?" | had met and detested Tibby at Oxford. "Yes, pretty well--but I wonder what Helen s doing." "She is very young to undertake this sort of thing," said Mr. Wilcox. Margaret went out to the landing. She heard no sound, and Mr. Bast s topper was missing from the hall. "Helen!"<|quote|>she called.</|quote|>"Yes!" replied a v... | to the world. "Miss Schlegel, you re a pair of dear creatures, but you really MUST be careful in this uncharitable world. What does your brother say?" "I forget." "Surely he has some opinion?" "He laughs, if I remember correctly." "He s very clever, isn t he?" said Evie, who had met and detested Tibby at Oxford. "Yes, ... | two men--they had formed the magic triangle of sex, and the male was thrilled to jealousy, in case the female was attracted by another male. Love, say the ascetics, reveals our shameful kinship with the beasts. Be it so: one can bear that; jealousy is the real shame. It is jealousy, not love, that connects us with the ... | father." "He was tramping in Surrey, if you mean that," said Margaret, pacing away rather crossly. "Oh, I dare say!" "Miss Wilcox, he was!" "M--m--m--m!" from Mr. Wilcox, who thought the episode amusing, if risque. With most ladies he would not have discussed it, but he was trading on Margaret s reputation as an emanci... | the real thing. We want to show him how he may get upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the country, some" "--she hesitated--" "either some very dear person or some very dear place seems necessary to relieve life s daily grey, and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should have both." Some of her words... | "Naughty young man!" cried the girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin. "When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want outside interests?" "He has apparently got them," put in Mr. Wilcox slyly. "Yes, indeed, father." "He was tramping in Surrey, if you mean that," said Margaret, pacing away... | Howards End |
"Yes!" | Helen | the hall. "Helen!" she called.<|quote|>"Yes!"</|quote|>replied a voice from the | s topper was missing from the hall. "Helen!" she called.<|quote|>"Yes!"</|quote|>replied a voice from the library. "You in there?" "Yes--he | and detested Tibby at Oxford. "Yes, pretty well--but I wonder what Helen s doing." "She is very young to undertake this sort of thing," said Mr. Wilcox. Margaret went out to the landing. She heard no sound, and Mr. Bast s topper was missing from the hall. "Helen!" she called.<|quote|>"Yes!"</|quote|>replied a voice fro... | world. "Miss Schlegel, you re a pair of dear creatures, but you really MUST be careful in this uncharitable world. What does your brother say?" "I forget." "Surely he has some opinion?" "He laughs, if I remember correctly." "He s very clever, isn t he?" said Evie, who had met and detested Tibby at Oxford. "Yes, pretty ... | had formed the magic triangle of sex, and the male was thrilled to jealousy, in case the female was attracted by another male. Love, say the ascetics, reveals our shameful kinship with the beasts. Be it so: one can bear that; jealousy is the real shame. It is jealousy, not love, that connects us with the farmyard intol... | was tramping in Surrey, if you mean that," said Margaret, pacing away rather crossly. "Oh, I dare say!" "Miss Wilcox, he was!" "M--m--m--m!" from Mr. Wilcox, who thought the episode amusing, if risque. With most ladies he would not have discussed it, but he was trading on Margaret s reputation as an emancipated woman. ... | thing. We want to show him how he may get upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the country, some" "--she hesitated--" "either some very dear person or some very dear place seems necessary to relieve life s daily grey, and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should have both." Some of her words ran past... | he was trading on Margaret s reputation as an emancipated woman. "He said so, and about such a thing he wouldn t lie." They both began to laugh. "That s where I differ from you. Men lie about their positions and prospects, but not about a thing of that sort." He shook his head. "Miss Schlegel, excuse me, but I know the... | Howards End |
replied a voice from the library. | No speaker | hall. "Helen!" she called. "Yes!"<|quote|>replied a voice from the library.</|quote|>"You in there?" "Yes--he s | topper was missing from the hall. "Helen!" she called. "Yes!"<|quote|>replied a voice from the library.</|quote|>"You in there?" "Yes--he s gone some time." Margaret went | detested Tibby at Oxford. "Yes, pretty well--but I wonder what Helen s doing." "She is very young to undertake this sort of thing," said Mr. Wilcox. Margaret went out to the landing. She heard no sound, and Mr. Bast s topper was missing from the hall. "Helen!" she called. "Yes!"<|quote|>replied a voice from the library... | "Miss Schlegel, you re a pair of dear creatures, but you really MUST be careful in this uncharitable world. What does your brother say?" "I forget." "Surely he has some opinion?" "He laughs, if I remember correctly." "He s very clever, isn t he?" said Evie, who had met and detested Tibby at Oxford. "Yes, pretty well--b... | formed the magic triangle of sex, and the male was thrilled to jealousy, in case the female was attracted by another male. Love, say the ascetics, reveals our shameful kinship with the beasts. Be it so: one can bear that; jealousy is the real shame. It is jealousy, not love, that connects us with the farmyard intolerab... | tramping in Surrey, if you mean that," said Margaret, pacing away rather crossly. "Oh, I dare say!" "Miss Wilcox, he was!" "M--m--m--m!" from Mr. Wilcox, who thought the episode amusing, if risque. With most ladies he would not have discussed it, but he was trading on Margaret s reputation as an emancipated woman. "He ... | We want to show him how he may get upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the country, some" "--she hesitated--" "either some very dear person or some very dear place seems necessary to relieve life s daily grey, and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should have both." Some of her words ran past Mr. Wi... | "Miss Wilcox, he was!" "M--m--m--m!" from Mr. Wilcox, who thought the episode amusing, if risque. With most ladies he would not have discussed it, but he was trading on Margaret s reputation as an emancipated woman. "He said so, and about such a thing he wouldn t lie." They both began to laugh. "That s where I differ f... | Howards End |
"You in there?" | Margaret | a voice from the library.<|quote|>"You in there?"</|quote|>"Yes--he s gone some time." | "Helen!" she called. "Yes!" replied a voice from the library.<|quote|>"You in there?"</|quote|>"Yes--he s gone some time." Margaret went to her. "Why, | well--but I wonder what Helen s doing." "She is very young to undertake this sort of thing," said Mr. Wilcox. Margaret went out to the landing. She heard no sound, and Mr. Bast s topper was missing from the hall. "Helen!" she called. "Yes!" replied a voice from the library.<|quote|>"You in there?"</|quote|>"Yes--he s g... | of dear creatures, but you really MUST be careful in this uncharitable world. What does your brother say?" "I forget." "Surely he has some opinion?" "He laughs, if I remember correctly." "He s very clever, isn t he?" said Evie, who had met and detested Tibby at Oxford. "Yes, pretty well--but I wonder what Helen s doing... | and the male was thrilled to jealousy, in case the female was attracted by another male. Love, say the ascetics, reveals our shameful kinship with the beasts. Be it so: one can bear that; jealousy is the real shame. It is jealousy, not love, that connects us with the farmyard intolerably, and calls up visions of two an... | that," said Margaret, pacing away rather crossly. "Oh, I dare say!" "Miss Wilcox, he was!" "M--m--m--m!" from Mr. Wilcox, who thought the episode amusing, if risque. With most ladies he would not have discussed it, but he was trading on Margaret s reputation as an emancipated woman. "He said so, and about such a thing ... | he may get upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the country, some" "--she hesitated--" "either some very dear person or some very dear place seems necessary to relieve life s daily grey, and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should have both." Some of her words ran past Mr. Wilcox. He let them run pa... | their eyes met, and it was as if Mr. Wilcox s defences fell. She saw back to the real man in him. Unwittingly she had touched his emotions. A woman and two men--they had formed the magic triangle of sex, and the male was thrilled to jealousy, in case the female was attracted by another male. Love, say the ascetics, rev... | Howards End |
"Yes--he s gone some time." | Helen | the library. "You in there?"<|quote|>"Yes--he s gone some time."</|quote|>Margaret went to her. "Why, | "Yes!" replied a voice from the library. "You in there?"<|quote|>"Yes--he s gone some time."</|quote|>Margaret went to her. "Why, you re all alone," she | what Helen s doing." "She is very young to undertake this sort of thing," said Mr. Wilcox. Margaret went out to the landing. She heard no sound, and Mr. Bast s topper was missing from the hall. "Helen!" she called. "Yes!" replied a voice from the library. "You in there?"<|quote|>"Yes--he s gone some time."</|quote|>Mar... | but you really MUST be careful in this uncharitable world. What does your brother say?" "I forget." "Surely he has some opinion?" "He laughs, if I remember correctly." "He s very clever, isn t he?" said Evie, who had met and detested Tibby at Oxford. "Yes, pretty well--but I wonder what Helen s doing." "She is very you... | was thrilled to jealousy, in case the female was attracted by another male. Love, say the ascetics, reveals our shameful kinship with the beasts. Be it so: one can bear that; jealousy is the real shame. It is jealousy, not love, that connects us with the farmyard intolerably, and calls up visions of two angry cocks and... | pacing away rather crossly. "Oh, I dare say!" "Miss Wilcox, he was!" "M--m--m--m!" from Mr. Wilcox, who thought the episode amusing, if risque. With most ladies he would not have discussed it, but he was trading on Margaret s reputation as an emancipated woman. "He said so, and about such a thing he wouldn t lie." They... | upsides with life. As I said, either friends or the country, some" "--she hesitated--" "either some very dear person or some very dear place seems necessary to relieve life s daily grey, and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should have both." Some of her words ran past Mr. Wilcox. He let them run past. Others ... | spoke their eyes met, and it was as if Mr. Wilcox s defences fell. She saw back to the real man in him. Unwittingly she had touched his emotions. A woman and two men--they had formed the magic triangle of sex, and the male was thrilled to jealousy, in case the female was attracted by another male. Love, say the ascetic... | Howards End |
Margaret went to her. | No speaker | "Yes--he s gone some time."<|quote|>Margaret went to her.</|quote|>"Why, you re all alone," | the library. "You in there?" "Yes--he s gone some time."<|quote|>Margaret went to her.</|quote|>"Why, you re all alone," she said. "Yes--it s all | is very young to undertake this sort of thing," said Mr. Wilcox. Margaret went out to the landing. She heard no sound, and Mr. Bast s topper was missing from the hall. "Helen!" she called. "Yes!" replied a voice from the library. "You in there?" "Yes--he s gone some time."<|quote|>Margaret went to her.</|quote|>"Why, y... | careful in this uncharitable world. What does your brother say?" "I forget." "Surely he has some opinion?" "He laughs, if I remember correctly." "He s very clever, isn t he?" said Evie, who had met and detested Tibby at Oxford. "Yes, pretty well--but I wonder what Helen s doing." "She is very young to undertake this so... | case the female was attracted by another male. Love, say the ascetics, reveals our shameful kinship with the beasts. Be it so: one can bear that; jealousy is the real shame. It is jealousy, not love, that connects us with the farmyard intolerably, and calls up visions of two angry cocks and a complacent hen. Margaret c... | I dare say!" "Miss Wilcox, he was!" "M--m--m--m!" from Mr. Wilcox, who thought the episode amusing, if risque. With most ladies he would not have discussed it, but he was trading on Margaret s reputation as an emancipated woman. "He said so, and about such a thing he wouldn t lie." They both began to laugh. "That s whe... | said, either friends or the country, some" "--she hesitated--" "either some very dear person or some very dear place seems necessary to relieve life s daily grey, and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should have both." Some of her words ran past Mr. Wilcox. He let them run past. Others he caught and criticised... | "M--m--m--m!" from Mr. Wilcox, who thought the episode amusing, if risque. With most ladies he would not have discussed it, but he was trading on Margaret s reputation as an emancipated woman. "He said so, and about such a thing he wouldn t lie." They both began to laugh. "That s where I differ from you. Men lie about ... | Howards End |
"Why, you re all alone," | Margaret | time." Margaret went to her.<|quote|>"Why, you re all alone,"</|quote|>she said. "Yes--it s all | there?" "Yes--he s gone some time." Margaret went to her.<|quote|>"Why, you re all alone,"</|quote|>she said. "Yes--it s all right, Meg. Poor, poor creature--" | undertake this sort of thing," said Mr. Wilcox. Margaret went out to the landing. She heard no sound, and Mr. Bast s topper was missing from the hall. "Helen!" she called. "Yes!" replied a voice from the library. "You in there?" "Yes--he s gone some time." Margaret went to her.<|quote|>"Why, you re all alone,"</|quote|... | world. What does your brother say?" "I forget." "Surely he has some opinion?" "He laughs, if I remember correctly." "He s very clever, isn t he?" said Evie, who had met and detested Tibby at Oxford. "Yes, pretty well--but I wonder what Helen s doing." "She is very young to undertake this sort of thing," said Mr. Wilcox... | attracted by another male. Love, say the ascetics, reveals our shameful kinship with the beasts. Be it so: one can bear that; jealousy is the real shame. It is jealousy, not love, that connects us with the farmyard intolerably, and calls up visions of two angry cocks and a complacent hen. Margaret crushed complacency d... | Wilcox, he was!" "M--m--m--m!" from Mr. Wilcox, who thought the episode amusing, if risque. With most ladies he would not have discussed it, but he was trading on Margaret s reputation as an emancipated woman. "He said so, and about such a thing he wouldn t lie." They both began to laugh. "That s where I differ from yo... | the country, some" "--she hesitated--" "either some very dear person or some very dear place seems necessary to relieve life s daily grey, and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should have both." Some of her words ran past Mr. Wilcox. He let them run past. Others he caught and criticised with admirable lucidity... | man." As she spoke their eyes met, and it was as if Mr. Wilcox s defences fell. She saw back to the real man in him. Unwittingly she had touched his emotions. A woman and two men--they had formed the magic triangle of sex, and the male was thrilled to jealousy, in case the female was attracted by another male. Love, sa... | Howards End |
she said. | No speaker | "Why, you re all alone,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"Yes--it s all right, Meg. | time." Margaret went to her. "Why, you re all alone,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"Yes--it s all right, Meg. Poor, poor creature--" "Come back | said Mr. Wilcox. Margaret went out to the landing. She heard no sound, and Mr. Bast s topper was missing from the hall. "Helen!" she called. "Yes!" replied a voice from the library. "You in there?" "Yes--he s gone some time." Margaret went to her. "Why, you re all alone,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"Yes--it s all right... | say?" "I forget." "Surely he has some opinion?" "He laughs, if I remember correctly." "He s very clever, isn t he?" said Evie, who had met and detested Tibby at Oxford. "Yes, pretty well--but I wonder what Helen s doing." "She is very young to undertake this sort of thing," said Mr. Wilcox. Margaret went out to the lan... | say the ascetics, reveals our shameful kinship with the beasts. Be it so: one can bear that; jealousy is the real shame. It is jealousy, not love, that connects us with the farmyard intolerably, and calls up visions of two angry cocks and a complacent hen. Margaret crushed complacency down because she was civilised. Mr... | Mr. Wilcox, who thought the episode amusing, if risque. With most ladies he would not have discussed it, but he was trading on Margaret s reputation as an emancipated woman. "He said so, and about such a thing he wouldn t lie." They both began to laugh. "That s where I differ from you. Men lie about their positions and... | "either some very dear person or some very dear place seems necessary to relieve life s daily grey, and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should have both." Some of her words ran past Mr. Wilcox. He let them run past. Others he caught and criticised with admirable lucidity. "Your mistake is this, and it is a ve... | m trying to say. He s a real man." As she spoke their eyes met, and it was as if Mr. Wilcox s defences fell. She saw back to the real man in him. Unwittingly she had touched his emotions. A woman and two men--they had formed the magic triangle of sex, and the male was thrilled to jealousy, in case the female was attrac... | Howards End |
"Yes--it s all right, Meg. Poor, poor creature--" | Helen | re all alone," she said.<|quote|>"Yes--it s all right, Meg. Poor, poor creature--"</|quote|>"Come back to the Wilcoxes | went to her. "Why, you re all alone," she said.<|quote|>"Yes--it s all right, Meg. Poor, poor creature--"</|quote|>"Come back to the Wilcoxes and tell me later--Mr. W | Wilcox. Margaret went out to the landing. She heard no sound, and Mr. Bast s topper was missing from the hall. "Helen!" she called. "Yes!" replied a voice from the library. "You in there?" "Yes--he s gone some time." Margaret went to her. "Why, you re all alone," she said.<|quote|>"Yes--it s all right, Meg. Poor, poor ... | forget." "Surely he has some opinion?" "He laughs, if I remember correctly." "He s very clever, isn t he?" said Evie, who had met and detested Tibby at Oxford. "Yes, pretty well--but I wonder what Helen s doing." "She is very young to undertake this sort of thing," said Mr. Wilcox. Margaret went out to the landing. She... | ascetics, reveals our shameful kinship with the beasts. Be it so: one can bear that; jealousy is the real shame. It is jealousy, not love, that connects us with the farmyard intolerably, and calls up visions of two angry cocks and a complacent hen. Margaret crushed complacency down because she was civilised. Mr. Wilcox... | who thought the episode amusing, if risque. With most ladies he would not have discussed it, but he was trading on Margaret s reputation as an emancipated woman. "He said so, and about such a thing he wouldn t lie." They both began to laugh. "That s where I differ from you. Men lie about their positions and prospects, ... | very dear person or some very dear place seems necessary to relieve life s daily grey, and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should have both." Some of her words ran past Mr. Wilcox. He let them run past. Others he caught and criticised with admirable lucidity. "Your mistake is this, and it is a very common mis... | sort." He shook his head. "Miss Schlegel, excuse me, but I know the type." "I said before--he isn t a type. He cares about adventures rightly. He s certain that our smug existence isn t all. He s vulgar and hysterical and bookish, but don t think that sums him up. There s manhood in him as well. Yes, that s what I m tr... | Howards End |
"Come back to the Wilcoxes and tell me later--Mr. W much concerned, and slightly titillated." | Margaret | right, Meg. Poor, poor creature--"<|quote|>"Come back to the Wilcoxes and tell me later--Mr. W much concerned, and slightly titillated."</|quote|>"Oh, I ve no patience | she said. "Yes--it s all right, Meg. Poor, poor creature--"<|quote|>"Come back to the Wilcoxes and tell me later--Mr. W much concerned, and slightly titillated."</|quote|>"Oh, I ve no patience with him. I hate him. | heard no sound, and Mr. Bast s topper was missing from the hall. "Helen!" she called. "Yes!" replied a voice from the library. "You in there?" "Yes--he s gone some time." Margaret went to her. "Why, you re all alone," she said. "Yes--it s all right, Meg. Poor, poor creature--"<|quote|>"Come back to the Wilcoxes and tel... | if I remember correctly." "He s very clever, isn t he?" said Evie, who had met and detested Tibby at Oxford. "Yes, pretty well--but I wonder what Helen s doing." "She is very young to undertake this sort of thing," said Mr. Wilcox. Margaret went out to the landing. She heard no sound, and Mr. Bast s topper was missing ... | Be it so: one can bear that; jealousy is the real shame. It is jealousy, not love, that connects us with the farmyard intolerably, and calls up visions of two angry cocks and a complacent hen. Margaret crushed complacency down because she was civilised. Mr. Wilcox, uncivilised, continued to feel anger long after he had... | most ladies he would not have discussed it, but he was trading on Margaret s reputation as an emancipated woman. "He said so, and about such a thing he wouldn t lie." They both began to laugh. "That s where I differ from you. Men lie about their positions and prospects, but not about a thing of that sort." He shook his... | seems necessary to relieve life s daily grey, and to show that it is grey. If possible, one should have both." Some of her words ran past Mr. Wilcox. He let them run past. Others he caught and criticised with admirable lucidity. "Your mistake is this, and it is a very common mistake. This young bounder has a life of hi... | "His wife is an old bore," she said simply. "He never came home last Saturday night because he wanted to be alone, and she thought he was with us." "With YOU?" "Yes." Evie tittered. "He hasn t got the cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside interests." "Naughty young man!" cried the girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret,... | Howards End |
"Oh, I ve no patience with him. I hate him. Poor dear Mr. Bast! he wanted to talk literature, and we would talk business. Such a muddle of a man, and yet so worth pulling through. I like him extraordinarily." | Helen | much concerned, and slightly titillated."<|quote|>"Oh, I ve no patience with him. I hate him. Poor dear Mr. Bast! he wanted to talk literature, and we would talk business. Such a muddle of a man, and yet so worth pulling through. I like him extraordinarily."</|quote|>"Well done," said Margaret, kissing | and tell me later--Mr. W much concerned, and slightly titillated."<|quote|>"Oh, I ve no patience with him. I hate him. Poor dear Mr. Bast! he wanted to talk literature, and we would talk business. Such a muddle of a man, and yet so worth pulling through. I like him extraordinarily."</|quote|>"Well done," said Margaret,... | called. "Yes!" replied a voice from the library. "You in there?" "Yes--he s gone some time." Margaret went to her. "Why, you re all alone," she said. "Yes--it s all right, Meg. Poor, poor creature--" "Come back to the Wilcoxes and tell me later--Mr. W much concerned, and slightly titillated."<|quote|>"Oh, I ve no patie... | met and detested Tibby at Oxford. "Yes, pretty well--but I wonder what Helen s doing." "She is very young to undertake this sort of thing," said Mr. Wilcox. Margaret went out to the landing. She heard no sound, and Mr. Bast s topper was missing from the hall. "Helen!" she called. "Yes!" replied a voice from the library... | not love, that connects us with the farmyard intolerably, and calls up visions of two angry cocks and a complacent hen. Margaret crushed complacency down because she was civilised. Mr. Wilcox, uncivilised, continued to feel anger long after he had rebuilt his defences, and was again presenting a bastion to the world. "... | reputation as an emancipated woman. "He said so, and about such a thing he wouldn t lie." They both began to laugh. "That s where I differ from you. Men lie about their positions and prospects, but not about a thing of that sort." He shook his head. "Miss Schlegel, excuse me, but I know the type." "I said before--he is... | If possible, one should have both." Some of her words ran past Mr. Wilcox. He let them run past. Others he caught and criticised with admirable lucidity. "Your mistake is this, and it is a very common mistake. This young bounder has a life of his own. What right have you to conclude it is an unsuccessful life, or, as y... | trading on Margaret s reputation as an emancipated woman. "He said so, and about such a thing he wouldn t lie." They both began to laugh. "That s where I differ from you. Men lie about their positions and prospects, but not about a thing of that sort." He shook his head. "Miss Schlegel, excuse me, but I know the type."... | Howards End |
"Well done," | Margaret | through. I like him extraordinarily."<|quote|>"Well done,"</|quote|>said Margaret, kissing her, "but | and yet so worth pulling through. I like him extraordinarily."<|quote|>"Well done,"</|quote|>said Margaret, kissing her, "but come into the drawing-room now, | and tell me later--Mr. W much concerned, and slightly titillated." "Oh, I ve no patience with him. I hate him. Poor dear Mr. Bast! he wanted to talk literature, and we would talk business. Such a muddle of a man, and yet so worth pulling through. I like him extraordinarily."<|quote|>"Well done,"</|quote|>said Margaret,... | Bast s topper was missing from the hall. "Helen!" she called. "Yes!" replied a voice from the library. "You in there?" "Yes--he s gone some time." Margaret went to her. "Why, you re all alone," she said. "Yes--it s all right, Meg. Poor, poor creature--" "Come back to the Wilcoxes and tell me later--Mr. W much concerned... | rebuilt his defences, and was again presenting a bastion to the world. "Miss Schlegel, you re a pair of dear creatures, but you really MUST be careful in this uncharitable world. What does your brother say?" "I forget." "Surely he has some opinion?" "He laughs, if I remember correctly." "He s very clever, isn t he?" sa... | thing of that sort." He shook his head. "Miss Schlegel, excuse me, but I know the type." "I said before--he isn t a type. He cares about adventures rightly. He s certain that our smug existence isn t all. He s vulgar and hysterical and bookish, but don t think that sums him up. There s manhood in him as well. Yes, that... | bounder has a life of his own. What right have you to conclude it is an unsuccessful life, or, as you call it, grey ?" "Because--" "One minute. You know nothing about him. He probably has his own joys and interests--wife, children, snug little home. That s where we practical fellows" he smiled--" "are more tolerant tha... | discussed it, but he was trading on Margaret s reputation as an emancipated woman. "He said so, and about such a thing he wouldn t lie." They both began to laugh. "That s where I differ from you. Men lie about their positions and prospects, but not about a thing of that sort." He shook his head. "Miss Schlegel, excuse ... | Howards End |
said Margaret, kissing her, | No speaker | like him extraordinarily." "Well done,"<|quote|>said Margaret, kissing her,</|quote|>"but come into the drawing-room | so worth pulling through. I like him extraordinarily." "Well done,"<|quote|>said Margaret, kissing her,</|quote|>"but come into the drawing-room now, and don t talk | me later--Mr. W much concerned, and slightly titillated." "Oh, I ve no patience with him. I hate him. Poor dear Mr. Bast! he wanted to talk literature, and we would talk business. Such a muddle of a man, and yet so worth pulling through. I like him extraordinarily." "Well done,"<|quote|>said Margaret, kissing her,</|qu... | topper was missing from the hall. "Helen!" she called. "Yes!" replied a voice from the library. "You in there?" "Yes--he s gone some time." Margaret went to her. "Why, you re all alone," she said. "Yes--it s all right, Meg. Poor, poor creature--" "Come back to the Wilcoxes and tell me later--Mr. W much concerned, and s... | defences, and was again presenting a bastion to the world. "Miss Schlegel, you re a pair of dear creatures, but you really MUST be careful in this uncharitable world. What does your brother say?" "I forget." "Surely he has some opinion?" "He laughs, if I remember correctly." "He s very clever, isn t he?" said Evie, who... | that sort." He shook his head. "Miss Schlegel, excuse me, but I know the type." "I said before--he isn t a type. He cares about adventures rightly. He s certain that our smug existence isn t all. He s vulgar and hysterical and bookish, but don t think that sums him up. There s manhood in him as well. Yes, that s what I... | a life of his own. What right have you to conclude it is an unsuccessful life, or, as you call it, grey ?" "Because--" "One minute. You know nothing about him. He probably has his own joys and interests--wife, children, snug little home. That s where we practical fellows" he smiled--" "are more tolerant than you intell... | you assumed. He needs outside interests." "Naughty young man!" cried the girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin. "When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want outside interests?" "He has apparently got them," put in Mr. Wilcox slyly. "Yes, indeed, father." "He was tramping in Surrey, if ... | Howards End |
"but come into the drawing-room now, and don t talk about him to the Wilcoxes. Make light of the whole thing." | Margaret | done," said Margaret, kissing her,<|quote|>"but come into the drawing-room now, and don t talk about him to the Wilcoxes. Make light of the whole thing."</|quote|>Helen came and behaved with | I like him extraordinarily." "Well done," said Margaret, kissing her,<|quote|>"but come into the drawing-room now, and don t talk about him to the Wilcoxes. Make light of the whole thing."</|quote|>Helen came and behaved with a cheerfulness that reassured their | concerned, and slightly titillated." "Oh, I ve no patience with him. I hate him. Poor dear Mr. Bast! he wanted to talk literature, and we would talk business. Such a muddle of a man, and yet so worth pulling through. I like him extraordinarily." "Well done," said Margaret, kissing her,<|quote|>"but come into the drawin... | the hall. "Helen!" she called. "Yes!" replied a voice from the library. "You in there?" "Yes--he s gone some time." Margaret went to her. "Why, you re all alone," she said. "Yes--it s all right, Meg. Poor, poor creature--" "Come back to the Wilcoxes and tell me later--Mr. W much concerned, and slightly titillated." "Oh... | presenting a bastion to the world. "Miss Schlegel, you re a pair of dear creatures, but you really MUST be careful in this uncharitable world. What does your brother say?" "I forget." "Surely he has some opinion?" "He laughs, if I remember correctly." "He s very clever, isn t he?" said Evie, who had met and detested Ti... | his head. "Miss Schlegel, excuse me, but I know the type." "I said before--he isn t a type. He cares about adventures rightly. He s certain that our smug existence isn t all. He s vulgar and hysterical and bookish, but don t think that sums him up. There s manhood in him as well. Yes, that s what I m trying to say. He ... | own. What right have you to conclude it is an unsuccessful life, or, as you call it, grey ?" "Because--" "One minute. You know nothing about him. He probably has his own joys and interests--wife, children, snug little home. That s where we practical fellows" he smiled--" "are more tolerant than you intellectuals. We li... | cosy home that you assumed. He needs outside interests." "Naughty young man!" cried the girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin. "When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want outside interests?" "He has apparently got them," put in Mr. Wilcox slyly. "Yes, indeed, father." "He was tramping... | Howards End |
Helen came and behaved with a cheerfulness that reassured their visitor--this hen at all events was fancy-free. | No speaker | light of the whole thing."<|quote|>Helen came and behaved with a cheerfulness that reassured their visitor--this hen at all events was fancy-free.</|quote|>"He s gone with my | him to the Wilcoxes. Make light of the whole thing."<|quote|>Helen came and behaved with a cheerfulness that reassured their visitor--this hen at all events was fancy-free.</|quote|>"He s gone with my blessing," she cried, "and now | talk literature, and we would talk business. Such a muddle of a man, and yet so worth pulling through. I like him extraordinarily." "Well done," said Margaret, kissing her, "but come into the drawing-room now, and don t talk about him to the Wilcoxes. Make light of the whole thing."<|quote|>Helen came and behaved with ... | went to her. "Why, you re all alone," she said. "Yes--it s all right, Meg. Poor, poor creature--" "Come back to the Wilcoxes and tell me later--Mr. W much concerned, and slightly titillated." "Oh, I ve no patience with him. I hate him. Poor dear Mr. Bast! he wanted to talk literature, and we would talk business. Such a... | in this uncharitable world. What does your brother say?" "I forget." "Surely he has some opinion?" "He laughs, if I remember correctly." "He s very clever, isn t he?" said Evie, who had met and detested Tibby at Oxford. "Yes, pretty well--but I wonder what Helen s doing." "She is very young to undertake this sort of th... | adventures rightly. He s certain that our smug existence isn t all. He s vulgar and hysterical and bookish, but don t think that sums him up. There s manhood in him as well. Yes, that s what I m trying to say. He s a real man." As she spoke their eyes met, and it was as if Mr. Wilcox s defences fell. She saw back to th... | minute. You know nothing about him. He probably has his own joys and interests--wife, children, snug little home. That s where we practical fellows" he smiled--" "are more tolerant than you intellectuals. We live and let live, and assume that things are jogging on fairly well elsewhere, and that the ordinary plain man ... | "Naughty young man!" cried the girl. "Naughty?" said Margaret, who hated naughtiness more than sin. "When you re married Miss Wilcox, won t you want outside interests?" "He has apparently got them," put in Mr. Wilcox slyly. "Yes, indeed, father." "He was tramping in Surrey, if you mean that," said Margaret, pacing away... | Howards End |
"He s gone with my blessing," | Helen | at all events was fancy-free.<|quote|>"He s gone with my blessing,"</|quote|>she cried, "and now for | that reassured their visitor--this hen at all events was fancy-free.<|quote|>"He s gone with my blessing,"</|quote|>she cried, "and now for puppies." As they drove away, | pulling through. I like him extraordinarily." "Well done," said Margaret, kissing her, "but come into the drawing-room now, and don t talk about him to the Wilcoxes. Make light of the whole thing." Helen came and behaved with a cheerfulness that reassured their visitor--this hen at all events was fancy-free.<|quote|>"H... | creature--" "Come back to the Wilcoxes and tell me later--Mr. W much concerned, and slightly titillated." "Oh, I ve no patience with him. I hate him. Poor dear Mr. Bast! he wanted to talk literature, and we would talk business. Such a muddle of a man, and yet so worth pulling through. I like him extraordinarily." "Well... | laughs, if I remember correctly." "He s very clever, isn t he?" said Evie, who had met and detested Tibby at Oxford. "Yes, pretty well--but I wonder what Helen s doing." "She is very young to undertake this sort of thing," said Mr. Wilcox. Margaret went out to the landing. She heard no sound, and Mr. Bast s topper was ... | and bookish, but don t think that sums him up. There s manhood in him as well. Yes, that s what I m trying to say. He s a real man." As she spoke their eyes met, and it was as if Mr. Wilcox s defences fell. She saw back to the real man in him. Unwittingly she had touched his emotions. A woman and two men--they had form... | home. That s where we practical fellows" he smiled--" "are more tolerant than you intellectuals. We live and let live, and assume that things are jogging on fairly well elsewhere, and that the ordinary plain man may be trusted to look after his own affairs. I quite grant--I look at the faces of the clerks in my own off... | indeed, father." "He was tramping in Surrey, if you mean that," said Margaret, pacing away rather crossly. "Oh, I dare say!" "Miss Wilcox, he was!" "M--m--m--m!" from Mr. Wilcox, who thought the episode amusing, if risque. With most ladies he would not have discussed it, but he was trading on Margaret s reputation as a... | Howards End |
she cried, | No speaker | s gone with my blessing,"<|quote|>she cried,</|quote|>"and now for puppies." As | all events was fancy-free. "He s gone with my blessing,"<|quote|>she cried,</|quote|>"and now for puppies." As they drove away, Mr. Wilcox | "Well done," said Margaret, kissing her, "but come into the drawing-room now, and don t talk about him to the Wilcoxes. Make light of the whole thing." Helen came and behaved with a cheerfulness that reassured their visitor--this hen at all events was fancy-free. "He s gone with my blessing,"<|quote|>she cried,</|quote... | and tell me later--Mr. W much concerned, and slightly titillated." "Oh, I ve no patience with him. I hate him. Poor dear Mr. Bast! he wanted to talk literature, and we would talk business. Such a muddle of a man, and yet so worth pulling through. I like him extraordinarily." "Well done," said Margaret, kissing her, "bu... | s very clever, isn t he?" said Evie, who had met and detested Tibby at Oxford. "Yes, pretty well--but I wonder what Helen s doing." "She is very young to undertake this sort of thing," said Mr. Wilcox. Margaret went out to the landing. She heard no sound, and Mr. Bast s topper was missing from the hall. "Helen!" she ca... | that sums him up. There s manhood in him as well. Yes, that s what I m trying to say. He s a real man." As she spoke their eyes met, and it was as if Mr. Wilcox s defences fell. She saw back to the real man in him. Unwittingly she had touched his emotions. A woman and two men--they had formed the magic triangle of sex,... | fellows" he smiled--" "are more tolerant than you intellectuals. We live and let live, and assume that things are jogging on fairly well elsewhere, and that the ordinary plain man may be trusted to look after his own affairs. I quite grant--I look at the faces of the clerks in my own office, and observe them to be dull... | long after he had rebuilt his defences, and was again presenting a bastion to the world. "Miss Schlegel, you re a pair of dear creatures, but you really MUST be careful in this uncharitable world. What does your brother say?" "I forget." "Surely he has some opinion?" "He laughs, if I remember correctly." "He s very cle... | Howards End |
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