The horse, growing restless, began tugging at the bridle and she spoke to him sharply. She plunged into a description of a man she had seen on the lecture platform during her visit to the East and Sam looked at her with puzzled eyes. “He was beautiful,” she said. “He was past sixty but looked like a boy of twenty-five, not in his body, but in an air of youth that hung over him. He stood there before the people talking, quiet, able, efficient. He was clean. He had lived clean, body and mind. He had been companion and co-worker with William Morris, and once he had been a mine boy in Wales, but he had got hold of a vision and lived for it. I did not hear what he said, but I kept thinking, ‘I want a man like that.’ “Can you accept my beliefs and live for what I want to live?” she persisted. Sam looked at the ground. It seemed to him that he was going to lose her, that she would not marry him. “I am not accepting beliefs or ends in life blindly,” he said stoutly, “but I want them. What are your beliefs? I want to know. I think I haven’t any myself. When I reach for them they are gone. My mind shifts and changes. I want something solid. I like solid things. I want you.” “When can we meet and talk everything over thoroughly?” “Now,” answered Sam bluntly, some look in her face changing his whole viewpoint. Suddenly it seemed as though a door had been opened, letting in a strong light upon the darkness of his mind. His confidence had come back to him. He wanted to strike and keep on striking. The blood rushed through his body and his brain began working rapidly. He felt sure of ultimate success. Taking her hand, and leading the horse, he began walking with her along the path. Her hand trembled in his and as though answering a thought in his mind she looked up at him and said, “I am not different from other women, although I do not accept your offer. This is a big moment for me, perhaps the biggest moment of my life. I want you to know that I feel that, though I do want certain things more than I want you or any other man.” There was a suggestion of tears in her voice and Sam had a feeling that the woman in her wanted him to take her into his arms, but something within him told him to wait and to help her by waiting. Like her he wanted something more than the feel of a woman in his arms. Ideas rushed through his head; he thought that she was going to give him some bigger idea than he had known. The figure she had drawn for him of the old man who stood on the platform, young and beautiful, the old boyish need of a purpose in life, the dreams of the last few weeks--all of these were a part of the eager curiosity in him. They were like hungry little animals waiting to be fed. “We must have it all out here and now,” he told himself. “I must not let myself be swept away by a rush of feeling and I must not let her be.