She and Courtlaw drove homewards together. “Think how dumb we find ourselves and stifled! I know we seem to have a sort of freedom. ‘He isn’t Valade, and the Comtesse de St Erme is absolutely furious. What more is there to be said? She defies me!” It was extraordinary. I dared not sing, I dared not laugh, except when you went away. Something drew you. As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall. She would always be going to and fro up the Avenue, getting glimpses of Ramage, seeing him in trains. “Look here,” he said, protruding his eyes; “why get anything to do at all just yet? Why, if you must be free, why not do the sensible thing? Make yourself worth a decent freedom. Running his hand hastily over it, he was startled to find it one complicated mass of bolts and bars. I know there’s a sort of right in your impatience at the slowness of Progress. I seek chaos, but not out of choice. ” Her heart leaped within her as she caught that phrase. ” He said.
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