wasinvited。AndIdon’tmakeanythingoftheworldoutsideeither。Whatdoyoumakeofit？”
　　“London。”Ibegan。“It’s——soenormous！”
　　“Isn’tit！Andit’salluptonothing。Youfindchapskeepinggrocers’shops——whytheDEVIL，Ponderevo，dotheykeepgrocers’
　　shops？Theyalldoitverycarefully，verysteadily，verymeanly。Youfindpeoplerunningaboutanddoingthemostremarkablethingsbeingpolicemen，forexample，andburglars。
　　Theygoaboutthesebusinessesquitegravelyandearnestly。I
　　somehow——can’tgoaboutmine。Isthereanysenseinitatall——anywhere？”
　　“Theremustbesenseinit。”Isaid。“We’reyoung。”
　　“We’reyoung——yes。Butonemustinquire。Thegrocer’sagrocerbecause，Isuppose，heseeshecomesinthere。Feelsthatonthewholeitamountstoacall。ButthebotherisIdon’tseewhereIcomeinatall。Doyou？”
　　“Whereyoucomein？”
　　“No，whereyoucomein。”
　　“Notexactly，yet。”Isaid。“Iwanttodosomegoodintheworld——something——somethingeffectual，beforeIdie。Ihaveasortofideamyscientificwork——Idon’tknow。”
　　“Yes。”hemused。”AndI’vegotasortofideamysculpture，——butnowitistocomeinandWHY，——I’venoideaatall。”Hehuggedhiskneesforaspace。“That’swhatpuzzlesme，Ponderevo，noend。”
　　Hebecameanimated。“Ifyouwilllookinthatcupboard。”hesaid，“youwillfindanoldrespectablelookingrollonaplateandaknifesomewhereandagallipotcontainingbutter。YougivethemmeandI’llmakemybreakfast，andthenifyoudon’tmindwatchingmepaddleaboutatmysimpletoiletI’llgetup。Thenwe’llgoforawalkandtalkaboutthisaffairoflifefurther。
　　AndaboutArtandLiteratureandanythingelsethatcropsupontheway。Yes，that’sthegallipot。Cockroachgotinit？
　　Chuckhimout——damnedinterloper。”
　　Sointhefirstfiveminutesofourtalk，asIseemtorememberitnow，oldEwartstruckthenotethatranthroughallthatmorning’sintercourse。
　　Tomeitwasamostmemorabletalkbecauseitopenedoutquitenewhorizonsofthought。I’dbeenworkingrathercloseandoutoftouchwithEwart’sfreegesticulatingway。Hewaspessimisticthatdayandscepticaltotheveryrootofthings。
　　Hemademefeelclearly，whatIhadnotfeltatallbefore，thegeneraladventurousnessoflife，particularlyoflifeatthestagewehadreached，andalsotheabsenceofdefiniteobjects，ofanyconcertedpurposeinthelivesthatweregoingonallroundus。Hemademefeel，too，howreadyIwastotakeupcommonplaceassumptions。JustasIhadalwaysimaginedthatsomewhereinsocialarrangementstherewascertainlyaHead-Masterwhowouldinterveneifonewenttoofar，soIhadalwayshadasortofimplicitbeliefthatinourEnglandthereweresomewherepeoplewhounderstoodwhatwewereall，asanation，about。Thatcrumpledintohispitofdoubtandvanished。
　　Hebroughtout，sharplycutandcertain，theimmenseeffectofpurposelessnessinLondonthatIwasalreadyindistinctlyfeeling。WefoundourselvesatlastreturningthroughHighgateCemeteryandWaterlowPark——andEwartwastalking。
　　“Lookatitthere。”hesaid，stoppingandpointingtothegreatvaleofLondonspreadingwideandfar。“It’slikeasea——andweswiminit。Andatlastdownwego，andthenupwecome——washeduphere。”Heswunghisarmstothelongslopesaboutus，tombsandheadstonesinlongperspectives，inlimitlessrows。
　　“We’reyoung，Ponderevo，butsoonerorlaterourwhitenedmemorieswillwashupononeofthesebeaches，onsomesuchbeachasthis。GeorgePonderevo，F。R。S。，SidneyEwart，R。I。P。Lookattherowsof’em！”
　　Hepaused。“Doyouseethathand？Thehand，Imean，pointingupward，onthetopofabluntedobelisk。Yes。Well，that’swhatIdoforaliving——whenI’mnotthinking，ordrinking，orprowling，ormakinglove，orpretendingI’mtryingtobeasculptorwithouteitherthemoneyorthemoralsforamodel。
　　See？AndIdothoseheartsafireandthosepensiveangelguardianswiththepalmofpeace。DamnedwellIdo’emanddamnedcheap！I’masweatedvictim，Ponderevo。”
　　Thatwasthewayofit，anyhow。Idrankdeepoftalkthatday；
　　wewentintotheology，intophilosophy；Ihadmyfirstglimpseofsocialism。IfeltasthoughIhadbeensilentinasilencesinceIandhehadparted。AtthethoughtofsocialismEwart’smoodschangedforatimetoasortofenergy。“Afterall，allthisconfoundedvaguenessmightbealtered。Ifyoucouldgetmentoworktogether。”
　　Itwasagoodtalkthatrambledthroughalltheuniverse。I
　　thoughtIwasgivingmymindrefreshment，butindeeditwasdissipation。Allsortsofideas，evennow，carrymebackasitweretoafountain-head，toWaterlowParkandmyresuscitatedEwart。TherestretchesawaysouthofuslonggardenslopesandwhitegravestonesandthewideexpanseofLondon，andsomewhereinthepictureisaredoldwall，sun-warmed，andagreatblazeofMichaelmasdaisiessetoffwithlategoldensunflowersandadriftofmottled，blood-red，fallenleaves。ItwaswithmethatdayasthoughIhadliftedmyheadsuddenlyoutofdullandimmediatethingsandlookedatlifealtogether。ButitplayedtheverydevilwiththecopyingupofmyarrearsofnotestowhichIhadvowedthelatterhalfofthatday。
　　AfterthatreunionEwartandImetmuchandtalkedmuch，andinoursubsequentencountershismonologuewasinterruptedandI
　　tookmyshare。HehadexercisedmesogreatlythatIlayawakeatnightsthinkinghimover，anddiscoursedandansweredhiminmyheadasIwentinthemorningtotheCollege。Iambynatureadoerandonlybythewayacritic；hisphilosophicalassertionoftheincalculablevaguenessoflifewhichfittedhisnaturalindolencerousedmymoreirritableandenergeticnaturetoactiveprotests。“It’sallsopointless。”Isaid，“becausepeopleareslackandbecauseit’sintheebbofanage。Butyou’reasocialist。Well，let’sbringthatabout！Andthere’sapurpose。Thereyouare！”
　　Ewartgavemeallmyfirstconceptionsofsocialism；inalittlewhileIwasanenthusiasticsocialistandhewasapassiveresistertothepracticalexpositionofthetheorieshehadtaughtme。“Wemustjoinsomeorganisation。”Isaid。“Weoughttodothings。Weoughttogoandspeakatstreetcorners。
　　Peopledon’tknow。”
　　Youmustfiguremearatherill-dressedyoungmaninastateofgreatearnestness，standingupinthatshabbystudioofhisandsayingthesethings，perhapswithsomegesticulations，andEwartwithaclay-smudgedface，dressedperhapsinaflannelshirtandtrousers，withapipeinhismouth，squattingphilosophicallyatatable，workingatsomechunkofclaythatnevergotbeyondsuggestion。
　　“Iwonderwhyonedoesn’twantto。”hesaid。
　　ItwasonlyveryslowlyIcametogaugeEwart’srealpositionintheschemeofthings，tounderstandhowdeliberateandcompletewasthisdetachmentofhisfromthemoralcondemnationandresponsibilitiesthatplayedsofineapartinhistalk。Hiswasessentiallythenatureofanartisticappreciator；hecouldfindinterestandbeautyinendlessaspectsofthingsthatImarkedasevil，oratleastasnotnegotiable；andtheimpulseIhadtowardsself-deception，tosustainedandconsistentself-devotion，disturbedanddetachedandpointlessasitwasatthattime，hehadindeedasortofadmirationforbutnosympathy。Likemanyfantasticandampletalkershewasatbottomsecretive，andhegavemeaseriesoflittleshocksofdiscoverythroughoutourintercourse。
　　Thefirstofthesecameintherealisationthathequiteseriouslymeanttodonothingintheworldatalltowardsreformingtheevilshelaidbareinsoeasyanddexterousamanner。Thenextcameinthesuddenappearanceofapersoncalled“Milly“——I’veforgottenhersurname——whomIfoundinhisroomoneevening，simplyattiredinabluewrap——therestofhercostumebehindthescreen——smokingcigarettesandsharingaflagonofanamazinglycheapandself-assertivegrocer’swineEwartaffected，called“CanarySack。”“Hullo！”saidEwart，asI
　　camein。“ThisisMilly，youknow。She’sbeenbeingamodel——sheISamodelreally。keepcalm，Ponderevo！Havesomesack？”
　　Millywasawomanofthirty，perhaps，withabroad，ratherprettyface，aplaciddisposition，abadaccentanddelightfulblondhairthatwavedoffherheadwithanirrepressiblevarietyofcharm；andwheneverEwartspokeshebeamedathim。Ewartwasalwayssketchingthishairofhersandembarkinguponclaystatuettesofherthatwereneverfinished。Shewas，Iknownow，awomanofthestreets，whomEwarthadpickedupinthemostcasualmanner，andwhohadfalleninlovewithhim，butmyinexperienceinthosedayswastoogreatformetoplaceherthen，andEwartofferednoelucidations。Shecametohim，hewenttoher，theytookholidaystogetherinthecountrywhencertainlyshesustainedherfairshareoftheirexpenditure。I
　　suspecthimnowevenoftakingmoneyfromher。OddoldEwart！
　　Itwasarelationshipsoalientomyorderlyconceptionsofhonour，towhatIcouldimagineanyfriendofminedoing，thatI
　　reallyhardlysawitwithitthereundermynose。ButIseeitandIthinkIunderstanditnow。
　　BeforeIfullygraspedthediscursivemannerinwhichEwartwascommittedtohisparticularwayinlife，Idid，Isay，asthebroadconstructiveideasofsocialismtookholdofme，trytogethimtoworkwithmeinsomedefinitefashionasasocialist。
　　“Weoughttojoinontoothersocialists。”Isaid。
　　“They’vegotsomething。”
　　“Let’sgoandlookatsomefirst。”