Benham had gone to Prothero again after a bout of elevated idealism.
It was only very slowly that he reconciled his mind to the idea of
an entirely solitary pursuit of his aristocratic dream. For some
time as he went about the world he was trying to bring himself into
relationship with the advanced thinkers, the liberal-minded people
who seemed to promise at least a mental and moral co-operation. Yet
it is difficult to see what co-operation was possible unless it was
some sort of agreement that presently they should all shout
together. And it was after a certain pursuit of Rabindranath
Tagore, whom he met in Hampstead, that a horror of perfect manners
and perfect finish came upon him, and he fled from that starry calm
to the rich uncleanness of the most undignified fellow of Trinity.
And as an advocate and exponent of the richness of the lower levels
of life, as the declared antagonist of caste and of the uttermost
refinements of pride, Prothero went with Benham by way of Siberia to
the Chinese scene.
Their controversy was perceptible at every dinner-table in their
choice of food and drink.
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