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She loathed pet nationalities. She
believed most people loathed them nowadays. It was stale: it was
GLADSTONIAN. She was all for specialization in social reform. She
thought Benham ought to join the Fabian Society and consult the
Webbs. Quite a number of able young men had been placed with the
assistance of the Webbs. They were, she said, "a perfect fount. . . ."
Two other people, independently of each other, pointed out to
Benham the helpfulness of a few articles in the half-crown
monthlies. . . .
"What are the assumptions underlying all this?" Benham asked himself
in a phase of lucidity.
And after reflection. "Good God! The assumptions! What do they
think will satisfy me? . . ."
Everybody, however, did not point to Parliament. Several people
seemed to think Travel, with a large T, was indicated. One distant
cousin of Sir Godfrey's, the kind of man of the world who has long
moustaches, was for big game shooting. "Get right out of all this
while you are young," he said. "There's nothing to compare with
stopping a charging lion at twenty yards.


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