He lifted his head and listened. "Did you get that faint lift of the breeze in the pines just then? Now it's gone; but it was just like the distant sound of the surf. If my eyes were shut, I should think myself by the shore." "Oh, I 've been listening to nothing else for the last half hour," she returned, "and I much prefer the sound of a human voice. Too much of nature frightens me. You see I have no soul." "You 've too much soul, perhaps," he amended. "If you had less, you would be impervious to such suggestions. But I know what you mean. However, we were talking about our friend Emmet, and your description of Warwick reminded me of his animadversions on the place. But let me go back to the beginning for a fair start, and tell you how I managed to get hold of him." He described the events of the morning following the dinner and the visit Emmet had paid him in the evening, putting in the personal detail with an instinctive knowledge of a woman's demand for such things. Her evident appreciation rewarded him. She had something to say of the captain who had helped him in his effort, and at many a point in their talk the congeniality of their minds became evident. "You know how Emmet feels about the college, and about colleges in general?" he asked. She nodded understandingly. "Unfortunately," he continued, "St. George's Hall is personified for him in Anthony Cobbens. He told me all about their early associations and subsequent estrangement. I must say that after his arraignment of the man, I half expected to see them fly at each other's throats, whereas they almost embraced." He threw back his head and laughed heartily at the remembrance. "The amenities of civilisation--and politics," she murmured, smiling. "But how roiled poor Emmet was underneath," he mused. "I wish I had Cardington's gift of speech to express the thoughts that have lately been taking shape in my mind concerning the spectacle of a democratic aristocracy. Now, if Emmet had the philosophical attitude of mind, he would n't have the strength to struggle which he undoubtedly does have. He needs that stimulus of personal animosity to get somewhere; if he were philosophical, he would be unambitious. When he has arrived, as they say, he will come to see that an aristocracy in the usual worldly sense of the term must have money to maintain its existence. The old aristocracy must have accessions of vulgar blood and vulgar money to keep it alive, just as the language must be rejuvenated from time to time by slang from the streets. I made a tentative effort to present some such point of view to him as you suggested, but it didn't take. He could only see Cobbens's red head in front of his eyes, and it was like the proverbial rag of the same colour to the bull. Emmet is a generation short of being able to see in his personal enemy a synopsis of the processes of history. This, in short, is my conclusion. I'm afraid I did n't accomplish what we hoped for."