"I do not know why," said Denny, "there should be so deadly a fear of upheaval. All growth comes with upheaval--surely all spiritual growth comes so. Growth by accretion means little. Growth from within comes with upheaval--what you have been transformed or discarded. A little higher, a little finer breaks the sod and grows forth so. The deadly fear should be of down-sinking--from the stagnant grow-no-farther-than-our-fathers-grew down--down.... Of course, the Woman Movement means upheaval and great upheaval--but that is a poor reason for condemnation.... As far as its political aspect is concerned, most open-minded men, Socialists and others, with whom I come into contact, admit the right and the need. Unless a man is very stupid he can see what a farce it is to talk of a democracy--government of the people, for the people, by the people--when one out of every two human beings is notoriously living under an aristocracy. And, of course, we who want an associative gain of livelihood, no less than an associative form of government, stand for her equality there.... But to me there is something other than all that in this upheaval. I cannot express it. I do not know what it is, unless it is some faint, supernal promise.... It is as though the Spirit were again working upon the face of the waters." He paused, gazing upward at the sky above the wall of rock. "We are in for a deep change." "Yes, I think so. A lift of mind and a change of heart, on which to base a chance for a deep change, indeed. A richer, deeper life.... Oh, there will be dross enough for a time, tares, detritus, heat and dust and wounds of conflict, Babel, cries and counter-cries! and some will think they lose...." "They'll only think so for a while. Nothing can be lost." "No--only transmuted.... But I hate the tumult and the shouting while the people are yet bewildered. If that's the Brahmin in me, I am going to sacrifice him. I am going where the battle is." "I do not doubt that." More white-suited people appeared, at their heels the black children. "Penny, Boss!--Penny, Boss!--Penny, Boss!" Hagar and Denny rose and walked back to town through the warm, fragrant ways. He left her at Greer's studio--she had promised to come look at the portrait. As they stood a moment in the verandah, Medway's golden drawl was heard from within. "Well, I've known a good many philosophers--but none that were irreducible. Every heroic, every transcendental treads at last the same pavement. 'I love and seek the street called pleasure. I abhor and avoid the street called pain.' Therefore the _summum bonum_--" The door opened to Hagar. She smiled and waved her hand, and the studio swallowed her up.