Sir Richmond was in love with his idea. “The spirit of the Gothic cathedrals,” he said, “is the spirit of the sky-scrapers. It is architecture in a mood of flaming ambition. The Freemasons on the building could hardly refrain from jeering at the little priest they had left down below there, performing antiquated puerile mysteries at his altar. He was just their excuse for doing it all.” “Sky-scrapers?” she conceded. “An early display of the sky-scraper spirit.... You are doing your best to make me feel thoroughly at home.” “You are more at home here still than in that new country of ours over the Atlantic. But it seems to me now that I do begin to remember building this cathedral and all the other cathedrals we built in Europe.... It was the fun of building made us do it...” “H’m,” she said. “And my sky-scrapers?” “Still the fun of building. That is the thing I envy most about America. It’s still large enough, mentally and materially, to build all sorts of things.... Over here, the sites are frightfully crowded....” “And what do you think we are building now? And what do you think you are building over here?” “What are we building now? I believe we have almost grown up. I believe it is time we began to build in earnest. For good....” “But are we building anything at all?” “A new world.” “Show it me,” she said. “We’re still only at the foundations,” said Sir Richmond. “Nothing shows as yet.” “I wish I could believe they were foundations.” “But can you doubt we are scrapping the old?...” It was too late in the afternoon to go into the cathedral, so they strolled to and fro round and about the west end and along the path under the trees towards the river, exchanging their ideas very frankly and freely about the things that had recently happened to the world and what they thought they ought to be doing in it. Section 5 After dinner our four tourists sat late and talked in a corner of the smoking-room. The two ladies had vanished hastily at the first dinner gong and reappeared at the second, mysteriously and pleasantly changed from tweedy pedestrians to indoor company. They were quietly but definitely dressed, pretty alterations had happened to their coiffure, a silver band and deep red stones lit the dusk of Miss Grammont’s hair and a necklace of the same colourings kept the peace between her jolly sun-burnt cheek and her soft untanned neck. It was evident her recent uniform had included a collar of great severity. Miss Seyffert had revealed a plump forearm and proclaimed it with a clash of bangles. Dr. Martineau thought her evening throat much too confidential.