"The active would enjoy it as well as the idle--or rather, there would be no longer either active or idle; everyone would work and enjoy equally, and equally fairly and rationally." "Then," went on Miss Flodden slowly, the sequence of thoughts bursting with difficulty on to her mind, "no one would have things, except for real enjoyment and as a result of fairly earning them? People would all have books and beautiful trees and fields to look at, and pictures and music; but no diamonds, or stepping horses, or frocks from Worth--the things one has because other folk have them." Greenleaf smiled: she seemed to him, talking of these things which "one" had because "others" had them, things so futile, so foreign to his mind, extraordinarily like a child talking of the snakes, whales, and ogres, represented by tables and chairs, and hearthrugs. "Of course not." "At that rate," went on the girl, "there would no longer be any need for marrying and giving in marriage. One would live quite free; free to work at what one liked, and look about without folks worrying one." Greenleaf did not follow her thought, for his own thoughts were too foreign to the habits she was alluding to. "I don't see," he added simply, "why people shouldn't marry or be given in marriage because every one worked and had leisure. Some mightn't, perhaps, because some would always, perhaps, want to work too much, and because things matter to me--I mean to some--more than other people. But I can't see why others shouldn't marry and be given in marriage, Miss Flodden." A little contraction passed across the girl's face, and she answered in a hurried, husky voice: "No, no; that would be all over."