. CHAPTER IX. By the time I had recovered myself she had gone. I am carrying back a hundred new books and forty new records for the piano-player. I'll be outside the hotel at nine-thirty. It was the incendiary intellectuals of the bourgeoisie, with their militant ideas of revolution, who had raised the populace to a pitch of violence resulting in cases of wholesale slaughter—such as had overtaken the Valades. Here was an experienced man of the world, her friend, who evidently took a great interest in this supreme topic and was willing to give her the benefit of his experiences! Why should not she be at her ease with him? Why should not she know things? It is hard enough anyhow for a human being to learn, she decided, but it is a dozen times more difficult than it need be because of all this locking of the lips and thoughts. ‘It was your son who left the place empty then?’ he asked. It was hot and dry.
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