AftersomepainswediscoveredtheofficeoftheFabianSociety，lurkinginacellarinClement’sInn；andwewentandinterviewedaratherdiscouragingsecretarywhostoodastraddleinfrontofafireandquestionedusseverelyandseemedtodoubttheintegrityofourintentionsprofoundly。HeadvisedustoattendthenextopenmeetinginClifford’sInnandgaveusthenecessarydata。
Webothcontrivedtogettotheaffair，andheardadiscursivegrittypaperonTrustsandoneofthemostinconclusivediscussionsyoucanimagine。Three-quartersofthespeakersseemedundersomejocularobsessionwhichtooktheformofpretendingtobeconceited。Itwasasortoffamilyjoke，andasstrangerstothefamilywedidnotlikeit。AswecameoutthroughthenarrowpassagefromClifford’sInntotheStrand，Ewartsuddenlypitcheduponawizened，spectacledlittlemaninavastfelthatandalargeorangetie。
“HowmanymembersarethereinthisFabianSocietyofyours？”heasked。
Thelittlemanbecameatoncedefensiveinhismanner。
“Aboutsevenhundred。”hesaid；“perhapseight。”
“Like——liketheoneshere？”
Thelittlemangaveanervousself-satisfiedlaugh。“Isupposethey’reuptosample。”hesaid。
ThelittlemandroppedoutofexistenceandweemergedupontheStrand。Ewarttwistedhisarmintoaqueerlyeloquentgesturethatgatheredupallthetallfacadesofthebanks，thebusinessplaces，theprojectingclockandtowersoftheLawCourts，theadvertisements，theluminoussigns，intoonesocialimmensity，intoacapitalisticsystemgiganticandinvincible。
“Thesesocialistshavenosenseofproportion。”hesaid。“Whatcanyouexpectofthem？”
Ewart，astheembodimentoftalk，wascertainlyaleadingfactorinmyconspicuousfailuretogoonstudying。SocialtheoryinitsfirstcrudeformofDemocraticSocialismgrippedmyintelligencemoreandmorepowerfully。IarguedinthelaboratorywiththemanwhosharedmybenchuntilwequarreledanddidnotspeakandalsoIfellinlove。
ThefermentofsexhadbeencreepingintomybeinglikeaslowlyadvancingtidethroughallmyWimblehurstdays，thestimulusofLondonwasliketherisingofawindoutoftheseathatbringsthewavesinfastandhigh。Ewarthadhisshareinthat。Moreandmoreacutelyandunmistakablydidmyperceptionofbeauty，formandsound，mydesireforadventure，mydesireforintercourse，convergeonthiscentralandcommandingbusinessoftheindividuallife。Ihadtogetmeamate。
IbegantofallinlovefaintlywithgirlsIpassedinthestreet，withwomenwhosatbeforemeintrains，withgirlfellow-students，withladiesinpassingcarriages，withloiterersatthecorners，withneat-handedwaitressesinshopsandtea-rooms，withpicturesevenofgirlsandwomen。OnmyrarevisitstothetheatreIalwaysbecameexalted，andfoundtheactressesandeventhespectatorsaboutmemysterious，attractive，creaturesofdeepinterestanddesire。Ihadastrongerandstrongersensethatamongtheseglancing，passingmultitudestherewassomewhereonewhowasforme。Andinspiteofeveryantagonisticforceintheworld，therewassomethinginmyverymarrowthatinsisted：“Stop！Lookatthisone！Thinkofher！Won’tshedo？Thissignifies——thisbeforeallthingssignifies！Stop！Whyareyouhurryingby？Thismaybethepredestinedperson——beforeallothers。”
ItisoddthatIcan’trememberwhenfirstIsawMarion，whobecamemywife——whomIwastomakewretched，whowastomakemewretched，whowastopluckthatfinegeneralisedpossibilityofloveoutofmyearlymanhoodandmakeitapersonalconflict。I
becameawareofherasoneofanumberofinterestingattractivefiguresthatmovedaboutinmyworld，thatglancedbackatmyeyes，thatflittedbywithakindofavertedwatchfulness。I
wouldmeethercomingthroughtheArtMuseum，whichwasmyshortcuttotheBromptonRoad，orseehersitting，readingasI
thought，inoneofthebaysoftheEducationLibrary。Butreally，asIfoundoutafterwards，sheneverread。Sheusedtocometheretoeatabuninquiet。Shewasaverygracefully-movingfigureofagirlthen，veryplainlydressed，withdarkbrownhairIremember，inaknotlowonherneckbehindthatconfessedtheprettyroundnessofherheadandharmonisedwiththeadmirablelinesofearsandcheek，thegraveserenityofmouthandbrow。
Shestoodoutamongtheothergirlsverydistinctlybecausetheydressedmorethanshedid，struckemphaticnotesofcolour，startledonebynoveltiesinhatsandbowsandthings。I’vealwayshatedtherustle，thedisconcertingcolourboundaries，thesmartunnaturalanglesofwomen’sclothes。Herplainblackdressgaveherastarkness。
Idoremember，though，howoneafternoonIdiscoveredthepeculiarappealofherformforme。IhadbeenrestlesswithmyworkandhadfinallyslippedoutoftheLaboratoryandcomeovertotheArtMuseumtoloungeamongthepictures。IcameuponherinanoddcorneroftheSheepshanksgallery，intentlycopyingsomethingfromapicturethathunghigh。Ihadjustbeeninthegalleryofcastsfromtheantique，mymindwasallalivewithmynewlyawakenedsenseofline，andthereshestoodwithfaceupturned，herbodydroopingforwardfromthehipsjustalittle——memorablygraceful——feminine。
AfterthatIknowIsoughttoseeher，feltadistinctiveemotionatherpresence，begantoimaginethingsabouther。Inolongerthoughtofgeneralisedwomanhoodorofthiscasualpersonorthat。Ithoughtofher。
Anaccidentbroughtustogether。IfoundmyselfoneMondaymorninginanomnibusstaggeringwestwardfromVictoria——IwasreturningfromaSundayI’dspentatWimblehurstinresponsetoauniquefreakofhospitalityonthepartofMr。Mantell。Shewasthesoleotherinsidepassenger。Andwhenthetimecametopayherfare，shebecameanextremelyscared，disconcertedandfumblingyoungwoman；shehadleftherpurseathome。
LuckilyIhadsomemoney。
Shelookedatmewithstartled，troubledbrowneyes；shepermittedmyprofferedpaymenttotheconductorwithacertainungraciousnessthatseemedapartofhershyness，andthenassherosetogo，shethankedmewithanobviousaffectationofease。
“Thankyousomuch。”shesaidinapleasantsoftvoice；andthenlessgracefully，“Awfullykindofyou，youknow。”
IfancyImadepolitenoises。ButjustthenIwasn’tdisposedtobecritical。Iwasfullofthesenseofherpresence；herarmwasstretchedoutovermeasshemovedpastme，thegraciousslendernessofherbodywasnearme。Thewordsweuseddidn’tseemverygreatlytomatter。Ihadvagueideasofgettingoutwithher——andIdidn’t。
Thatencounter，Ihavenodoubt，exercisedmeenormously。Ilayawakeatnightrehearsingit，andwonderingaboutthenextphaseofourrelationship。Thattooktheformofthereturnofmytwopence。IwasintheScienceLibrary，diggingsomethingoutoftheEncyclopediaBritannica，whensheappearedbesidemeandplacedontheopenpageanevidentlypremeditatedthinenvelope，bulginglyconfessingthecoinswithin。
“Itwassoverykindofyou。”shesaid，“theotherday。Idon’tknowwhatIshouldhavedone，Mr——“
Isuppliedmyname。“Iknew。”Isaid，“youwereastudenthere。”
“Notexactlyastudent。I——“
“Well，anyhow，Iknewyouwereherefrequently。AndI’mastudentmyselfattheConsolidatedTechnicalSchools。”
Iplungedintoautobiographyandquestionings，andsoentangledherinaconversationthatgotaqualityofintimacythroughthefactthat，outofdeferencetoourfellow-readers，wewereobligedtospeakinundertones。AndIhavenodoubtthatinsubstanceitwassingularlybanal。IndeedIhaveanimpressionthatallourearlyconversationswereincrediblybanal。Wemetseveraltimesinamannerhalf-accidental，halffurtiveandwhollyawkward。MentallyIdidn’ttakeholdofher。Ineverdidtakeholdofhermentally。Hertalk，Inowknowalltooclearly，wasshallow，pretentious，evasive。Only——eventothisday——I
don’trememberitasinanywayvulgar。Shewas，Icouldseequiteclearly，anxioustooverstateorconcealherrealsocialstatus，alittledesiroustobetakenforastudentintheartschoolandalittleashamedthatshewasn’t。Shecametothemuseumto“copythings。”andthis，Igathered，hadsomethingtodowithsomewayofpartiallyearningherlivingthatIwasn’ttoinquireinto。Itoldherthingsaboutmyself，vainthingsthatI
feltmightappealtoher，butthatIlearntlongafterwardsmadeherthinkme“conceited。”Wetalkedofbooks，butthereshewasverymuchonherguardandsecretive，andrathermorefreelyofpictures。She“liked“pictures。IthinkfromtheoutsetI
appreciatedanddidnotforamomentresentthatherswasacommonplacemind，thatshewastheunconsciouscustodianofsomethingthathadgrippedmymostintimateinstinct，thatsheembodiedthehopeofapossibility，wasthecarelessproprietorofaphysicalqualitythathadturnedmyheadlikestrongwine。
IfeltIhadtosticktoouracquaintance，flatasitwas。
Presentlyweshouldgetthroughtheseirrelevantexteriorthings，andcometotherealityoflovebeneath。
Isawherindreamsreleased，asitwere，fromherself，beautiful，worshipful，glowing。Andsometimeswhenweweretogether，wewouldcomeonsilencesthroughsheerlackofmatter，andthenmyeyeswouldfeastonher，andthesilenceseemedlikethedrawingbackofacurtain——hersuperficialself。Odd，I
confess。Odd，particularly，theenormousholdofcertainthingsaboutheruponme，acertainslightroundedduskinessofskin，acertainperfectionofmodellinginherlips，herbrow，acertainfineflowabouttheshoulders。Shewasn’tindeedbeautifultomanypeople——thesethingsarebeyondexplaining。Shehadmanifestdefectsofformandfeature，andtheydidn’tmatteratall。Hercomplexionwasbad，butIdon’tthinkitwouldhavematteredifithadbeenpositivelyunwholesome。Ihadextraordinarilylimited，extraordinarilypainful，desires。I
longedintolerablytokissherlips。