strength。　　As　they　say　in　Italy；　il　mondo　e　a　chi　se　lo　piglia；　the　world
  belongs　to　him　who　is　bold。〃
  〃Italian　is　a　beautiful　language；〃　she　exclaimed。
  〃I　will　teach　you　Italian；〃　he　said。
  〃I　want　to　learnso　much！〃　she　sighed。
  〃Your　soul　is　parched；〃　he　said；　in　a　commiserating　tone。　　〃I　will　water
  it；　I　will　teach　you　everything。〃　　His　words　aroused　a　faint；　derisive
  echo：　Ditmar　had　wish　to　teach　her；　too！　　But　now　she　was　strongly　under
  the　spell　of　the　new　ideas　hovering　like　shining；　gossamer　spirits　just
  beyond　her　reach；　that　she　sought　to　grasp　and　correlate。　　Unlike　the
  code　which　Rolfe　condemned；　they　seemed　not　to　be　separate　from　life；
  opposed　to　it；　but　entered　even　into　that　most　important　of　its　elements；
  sex。　　In　deference　to　that　other　code　Ditmar　had　made　her　his　mistress；
  and　because　he　was　concerned　for　his　position　and　the　security　of　the
  ruling　class　had　sought　to　hide　the　fact。。。。　　Rolfe；　with　a　cigarette
  between　his　red　lips；　sat　back　in　his　chair；　regarding　with　sensuous
  enjoyment　the　evident　effect　of　his　arguments。
  〃But　love？〃　she　interrupted；　when　presently　he　had　begun　to　talk　again。
  She　strove　inarticulately　to　express　an　innate　feminine　objection　to
  relationships　that　were　made　and　broken　at　pleasure。
  〃Love　is　nothing　but　attraction　between　the　sexes；　the　life…force　working
  in　us。　　And　when　that　attraction　ceases；　what　is　left？　　Bondage。　　The
  hideous　bondage　of　Christian　marriage；　in　which　women　promise　to　love　and
  obey　forever。〃
  〃But　womenwomen　are　not　like　men。　　When　once　they　give　themselves　they
  do　not　so　easily　cease　to　love。　　Theythey　suffer。〃
  He　did　not　seem　to　observe　the　bitterness　in　her　voice。
  〃Ah；　that　is　sentiment；〃　he　declared；　〃something　that　will　not　trouble
  women　when　they　have　work　to　do；　inspiring　work。　　It　takes　time　to　change
  our　ideas；　to　learn　to　see　things　as　they　are。〃　　He　leaned　forward
  eagerly。　　〃But　you　will　learn；　you　are　like　some　of　those　rare　women　in
  history　who　have　had　the　courage　to　cast　off　traditions。　　You　were　not
  made　to　be　a　drudge。。。。〃
  But　now　her　own　words；　not　his；　were　ringing　in　her　headwomen　do　not　so
  easily　cease　to　love；　they　suffer。　　In　spite　of　the　new　creed　she　had　so
  eagerly　and　fiercely　embraced；　in　which　she　had　sought　deliverance　and
  retribution；　did　she　still　love　Ditmar；　and　suffer　because　of　him？　　She
  repudiated　the　suggestion；　yet　it　persisted　as　she　glanced　at　Rolfe's　red
  lips　and　compared　him　with　Ditmar。　　Love！　Rolfe　might　call　it　what　he
  wouldthe　life…force；　attraction　between　the　sexes；　but　it　was　proving
  stronger　than　causes　and　beliefs。　　He　too　was　making　love　to　her；　like
  Ditmar；　he　wanted　her　to　use　and　fling　away　when　he　should　grow　weary。
  Was　he　not　pleading　for　himself　rather　than　for　the　human　cause　he
  professed？　taking　advantage　of　her　ignorance　and　desperation；　of　her
  craving　for　new　experience　and　knowledge？　　The　suspicion　sickened　her。
  Were　all　men　like　that？　　Suddenly；　without　apparent　premeditation　or
  connection；　the　thought　of　the　stranger　from　Silliston　entered　her　mind。
  Was　he　like　that？。。。　　Rolfe　was　bending　toward　her　across　the　table；
  solicitously。　　〃What's　the　matter？〃　he　asked。
  Her　reply　was　listless。
  〃Nothingexcept　that　I'm　tired。　　I　want　to　go　home。〃
  〃Not　now；〃　he　begged。　　〃It's　early　yet。〃
  But　she　insisted。。。。
  CHAPTER　XVII
  The　next　day　at　the　noon　hour　Janet　entered　Dey　Street。　　Cheek　by　jowl
  there　with　the　tall　tenements　whose　spindled…pillared　porches　overhung
  the　darkened　pavements　were　smaller　houses　of　all　ages　and　descriptions；
  their　lower　floors　altered　to　accommodate　shops；　while　in　the　very　midst
  of　the　block　stood　a　queer　wooden　building　with　two　rows　of　dormer
  windows　let　into　its　high…pitched　roof。　　It　bore　a　curious　resemblance　to
  a　town　hall　in　the　low　countries。　　In　front　of　it　the　street　was　filled
  with　children　gazing　up　at　the　doorway　where　a　man　stood　surveying　them
  the　stranger　from　Silliston。　　There　was　a　rush　toward　him；　a　rush　that
  drove　Janet　against　the　wall　almost　at　his　side；　and　he　held　up　his　hands
  in　mock　despair；　gently　impeding　the　little　bodies　that　strove　to　enter。
  He　bent　over　them　to　examine　the　numerals；　printed　on　pasteboard；　they
  wore　on　their　breasts。　　His　voice　was　cheerful；　yet　compassionate。
  〃It's　hard　to　wait；　I　know。　　I'm　hungry　myself；〃　he　said。　　〃But　we　can't
  all　go　up　at　once。　　The　building　would　fall　down！　　One　to　one　hundred
  now；　and　the　second　hundred　will　be　first　for　supper。　　That's　fair；　isn't
  it？〃
  Dozens　of　hands　were　raised。
  〃I'm　twenty…nine！〃
  〃I'm　three；　mister！〃
  〃I'm　forty…one！〃
  He　let　them　in；　one　by　one；　and　they　clattered　up　the　stairs；　as　he
  seized　a　tiny　girl　bundled　in　a　dark　red　muffler　and　set　her　on　the　steps
  above　him。　　He　smiled　at　Janet。
  〃This　is　my　restaurant；〃　he　said。
  But　she　could　not　answer。　　She　watched　him　as　he　continued　to　bend　over
  the　children；　and　when　the　smaller　ones　wept　because　they　had　to　wait；　he
  whispered　in　their　ears；　astonishing　one　or　two　into　laughter。　　Some
  ceased　crying　and　clung　to　him　with　dumb　faith。　　And　after　the　chosen
  hundred　had　been　admitted　he　turned　to　her　again。
  〃You　allow　visitors？〃
  〃Oh　dear；　yes。　　They'd　come　anyway。　　There's　one　up　there　now；　a　very
  swell　lady　from　New　Yorkso　swell　I　don't　know　what　to　say　to　her。　　Talk
  to　her　for　me。〃
  〃But　I　shouldn't　know　what　to　say；　either；〃　replied　Janet。　　She　smiled；
  but　she　had　an　odd　desire　to　cry。　　〃What　is　she　doing　here？〃
  〃Oh；　thrashing　'round；　trying　to　connect　with　lifeshe's　one　of　the
  unfortunate　unemployed。〃
  〃Unemployed？〃
  〃The　idle　rich；〃　he　explained。　　〃Perhaps　you　can　give　her　a　jobenlist
  her　in　the　I。W。W。〃
  〃We　don't　want　that　kind；〃　Janet　declared。
  〃Have　pity　on　her；〃　he　begged。　　〃Nobody　wants　themthat's　why　they're　so
  pathetic。〃
  She　accompanied　him　up　the　narrow　stairway　to　a　great　loft；　the　bareness
  of　which　had　been　tempered　by　draped　American　flags。　　From　the　trusses　of
  the　roof　hung　improvised　electric　lights；　and　the　children　were　already
  seated　at　the　four　long　tables；　where　half　a　dozen　ladies　were　supplying
  them　with　enamelled　bowls　filled　with　steaming　soup。　　They　attacked　it
  ravenously；　and　the　absence　of　the　talk　and　laughter　that　ordinarily
  accompany　children's　feasts　touched　her；　impressed　upon　her；　as　nothing
  else　had　done；　the　destitution　of　the　homes　from　which　these　little　ones
  had　come。　　The　supplies　that　came　to　Hampton；　the　money　that　poured　into
  Headquarters　were　not　enough　to　allay　the　suffering　even　now。　　And　what
  if　the　strike　should　last　for　months！　　Would　they　be　able　to　hold　out；　to
  win？　　In　this　mood　of　pity；　of　anxiety　mingled　with　appreciation　and
  gratitude　for　what　this　man　was　doing；　she　turned　to　speak　to　him；　to
  perceive　on　the　platform　at　the　end　of　the　room　a　lady　seated。　　So
  complete　was　the　curve　of　her　back　that　her　pose　resembled　a　letter　u　set
  sidewise；　the　gap　from　her　crossed　knee　to　her　face　being　closed　by　a
  slender　forearm　and　hand　that　held　a　lorgnette；　through　which　she　was
  gazing　at　the　children　with　an　apparently　absorbed　interest。　　This
  impression　of　willowy　flexibility　was　somehow　heightened　by　large；　pear…
  shaped　pendants　hanging　from　her　ears；　by　a　certain　filminess　in　her
  black　costume　and　hat。　　Flung　across　the　table　beside　her　was　a　long　coat
  of　grey　fur。　　She　struck　an　odd　note　here；　presented　a　strange　contrast
  to　Janet's　friend　from　Silliston；　with　his　rough　suit　and　fine　but　rugged
  features。
  〃I'm　sorry　I　haven't　a　table　for　you　just　at　present；〃　he　was　saying。
  〃But　perhaps　you'll　let　me　take　your　order；〃and　he　imitated　the
  obsequious　attitude　of　a　waiter。　　〃A　little　fresh　caviar　and　a　clear
  soup；　and　then　a　fish？〃
  The　lady　took　down　her　lorgnette　and　raised　an　appealing　face。
  〃You're　always　joking；　Brooks；〃　she　chided　him；　〃even　when　you're　doing
  things　like　this！　　I　can't　get　you　to　talk　seriously　even　when　I　come　all
  the　way　from　New　York　to　find　out　what's　going　on　here。〃
  〃How　hungry　children　eat；　for　instance？〃　he　queried。
  〃Dear　little　things；　it's　heartrending！〃　she　exclaimed。　　〃Especially　when
  I　think　of　my　own　children；　who　have　to　be　made　to　eat。　　Tell　me　the
  nationality　of　that　adorable　tot　at　the　end。〃
  〃Perhaps　Miss　Bumpus　can　tell　you；〃　he　ventured。　　And　Janet；　though
  distinctly　uncomfortable　and　hostile　to　the　lady；　was　surprised　and
  pleased　that　he　should　have　remembered　her　name。　　〃Brooks；〃　she　had
  called　him。　　That　was　his　first　name。　　This　strange　and　sumptuous　person
  seemed　intimate　with　him。　　Could　it　be　possible　that　he　belonged　to　her
  class？　　〃Mrs。　Brocklehurst；　Miss　Bumpus。〃
  Mrs。　Brocklehurst　focussed　her　attention　on　Janet；　through　the　lorgnette；
  but　let　it　fall　immediately；　smiling　on　her　brightly；　persuasively。
  〃How　d'ye　do？〃　she　said；　stretching　forth　a　slender　arm　and　taking　the
  girl's　somewhat　reluctant　hand。　　〃Do　come　and　sit　down　beside　me　and　tell
  me　about　everything　here。　　I'm　sure　you　knowyou　look　so　intelligent。〃
  Her　friend　from　Silliston　shot　at　Janet　an　amused　but　fortifying　glance
  and　left　them；　going　down　to　the　tables。　　Somehow　that　look　of　his　helped
  to　restore　in　her　a　sense　of　humour　and　proportion；　and　her　feeling
  became　on