She turned and looked at him with’ a little arch of triumph in her brows, at having attained this expression of her thought. "We all have a conception of life that is more or less confused," Marriott generalized. "That is, when we have any conception at all." "Of course," said Elizabeth, "I presume Dick’s conception is as good as mine; and that his life is quite as useful. My life has been every bit as objective--I have a round of little duties--teas and balls and parties, and all that sort of thing, of course. I’ve been sheltered, like all girls of my class; but poor Dick--he’s exposed, that is the difference." She was silent for a while. Marriott had not known before how deep her thought had gone. "I’m utterly useless in the world," she went on, "and I’m sick of it! Sick of it!" She had grown vehement, and her little fists clenched in her lap, until the knuckles showed white. "Do you know what I’ve a notion of doing?" she said. "No; what?" "I’ve a notion to go and work in a factory, say half a day, and give some poor girl a half-holiday." "But you’d take her wages from her," said Marriott. "Oh, I’d give her the wages." Marriott shook his head slowly, doubtingly. "I know it’s impractical," Elizabeth went on. "Of course, I’d never do it. Why, people would think I’d gone crazy! Imagine what mama would say!" She smiled at the absurdity. "No," she said, "I’ll have to go on, and lead my idle, useless life. That’s what it is, Gordon." He saw the latent fires of indignation and protest leap into her eyes. "It’s this life--this horrible, false, insane life! That’s what it is! The poor boy is beside himself with it, and he doesn’t know it. There is no place for him, nothing for him to do; it’s the logic of events." He was surprised to see such penetration in her. "I’ve been thinking it out," she hurried to explain. "I’ve suffered from it myself. I’ve felt it for a long time, without understanding it, and I don’t understand it very well now, but I’m beginning to. Of what use am I in the world? Not a bit--there isn’t a single thing I can do. All this whole winter I’ve been going about to a lot of useless affairs, meeting and chattering with a lot of people who have no real life at all--who are of no more use in the world than I. I’m wearing myself out at it--and here I am, glad that the long, necessary waste of time is over--tired and sick, of this--this--sofa-pillow existence!" She thumped a silken pillow that lay on a long wicker divan beside her, thumped it viciously and with a hatred. "Sometimes I feel that I’d like to leave the town and never see anybody in it again!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "Don’t you?" "Yes--but--" "But what?" "But is there any place where we could escape it all?"