“When you think of the height and depth and importance and wisdom of the Socialist ideas, and see the men who are running them,” I explained.... “A big system of ideas like Socialism grows up out of the obvious common sense of our present conditions. It's as impersonal as science. All these men--They've given nothing to it. They're just people who have pegged out claims upon a big intellectual No-Man's-Land--and don't feel quite sure of the law. There's a sort of quarrelsome uneasiness.... If we professed Socialism do you think they'd welcome us? Not a man of them! They'd feel it was burglary....” “Yes,” said Margaret, looking into the fire. “That is just what I felt about them all the evening.... Particularly Dr. Tumpany.” “We mustn't confuse Socialism with the Socialists,” I said; “that's the moral of it. I suppose if God were to find He had made a mistake in dates or something, and went back and annihilated everybody from Owen onwards who was in any way known as a Socialist leader or teacher, Socialism would be exactly where it is and what it is to-day--a growing realisation of constructive needs in every man's mind, and a little corner in party politics. So, I suppose, it will always be.... But they WERE a damned lot, Margaret!” I looked up at the little noise she made. “TWICE!” she said, smiling indulgently, “to-day!” (Even the smile was Altiora's.) I returned to my thoughts. They WERE a damned human lot. It was an excellent word in that connection.... But the ideas marched on, the ideas marched on, just as though men's brains were no more than stepping-stones, just as though some great brain in which we are all little cells and corpuscles was thinking them!... “I don't think there is a man among them who makes me feel he is trustworthy,” said Margaret; “unless it is Featherstonehaugh.” I sat taking in this proposition. “They'll never help us, I feel,” said Margaret. “Us?” “The Liberals.” “Oh, damn the Liberals!” I said. “They'll never even help themselves.” “I don't think I could possibly get on with any of those people,” said Margaret, after a pause. She remained for a time looking down at me and, I could feel, perplexed by me, but I wanted to go on with my thinking, and so I did not look up, and presently she stooped to my forehead and kissed me and went rustling softly to her room. I remained in my study for a long time with my thoughts crystallising out....