He did not stay there, however. He was beginning to see the outline of his plan, and at the same time the limitation of his own powers. He saw that enough food could not be raised near London to support the multitude, that the death of the many was demanded by the needs of the few if any were to survive, and that communities must be formed with the common purpose of tilling the land and excluding those who could not earn their right to support. In such a catastrophe as this, charity became a crime. He intended even then to push on beyond Reading, but in Maidenhead he met a woman who influenced him to a nearer goal. 3 She stepped into the road and held up her hand. Thrale stopped; he thought she was about to make the familiar demand either for food or a direction. "Well?" he said curtly. "Where are you going?" she asked. He shrugged his shoulders. "To find room," he said. "There is room for you near here," said the woman, "if you'll work." "At what?" he asked. "Machinery, harvesting machinery, agricultural machinery of all sorts." "Where?" asked Thrale. She dropped her voice and looked about her. "Marlow," she said. "It--it's an eddy. Off the main roads and by the river. There are less than a thousand women there at present, and we are keeping the others out; at least until after harvest. There is plenty of land about, and we're keeping ourselves at present. Only we do want a man for the machines. Will you come and help us?" "I'll come and see what I can do," said Thrale "I won't promise to stay." "Aren't there any other men, there?" he added after a moment's hesitation. "One at Wycombe," said the women. "He's a butcher, but----" "I understand," said Thrale. "And meanwhile you might help me," said the woman. "I come over here with a horse and cart to raid the seedsmen's shops. If we leave them the women would eat all the beans and peas and things, you know; enough to feed us for the winter gone in a week, and no one any the better. Isn't it awful how careless we are?" 4 She was a fair, clear-eyed girl, with the figure and complexion of one who had devoted considerable attention to outdoor sports. She was wearing a man's Norfolk jacket (men's clothing was so plentiful), and a skirt that barely reached her knees, and did not entirely hide cloth knickerbockers which might also have been adapted from a man's garment. Below the knickerbockers she displayed thick stockings and sandals. Her splendid fair hair furnished sufficient protection for her head, and she had dressed a pillow of it into the nape of her neck as a shield for the sun. Thrale looked at her with a frank curiosity as they made their way up the town to a seedsman's shop. She had left the horse and cart there, she explained, while she explored other streets of the town. "Who are you?" he asked. "Eileen, of Marlow," she said. "There doesn't seem to be another Eileen there, so one name's enough." "Is that how your community feel about it?" he asked.