“How crude you are, Anna!” she exclaimed with a little sigh. She had found the mausoleum underneath a broken monument. She had heard of women journalists, women writers, and so forth; but she was not even admitted to the presence of the editors she demanded to see, and by no means sure that if she had been she could have done any work they might have given her. I have been imaging—” “Mr. " This placard attracted universal attention. There was a little murmur of consternation from the waiting crowd, and the florid young woman showed signs of temper, to which Mr. Something changed for her. She let her mind run into dreams of that cloud paradise of an altered world in which the Goopes and Minivers, the Fabians and reforming people believed. The entire city seemed to exist for beauty and art alone. And they had an idea of what men were like behind all their nicety. And then presently these clouds began to wear thin and expose steep, deep slopes, going down and down, with grass and pine-trees, down and down, and at last, through a great rent in the clouds, bare roofs, shining like very minute pin-heads, and a road like a fibre of white silk-Macugnana, in Italy. The hand which the man had been holding hung limp and nerveless at her side.
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