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She let her mind run into dreams of that cloud paradise of an altered world in which the Goopes and Minivers, the Fabians and reforming people believed. A long shrill cat-call in the gallery seemed to be the signal. "Si—lence!" vociferated Charcam, laying great emphasis on the last syllable. I told her it was the end. 266 She peered up at him. . She had tasted freedom now, and so far she had not felt the need of protection. Everything, Miss Miniver said, was “working up,” everything was “coming on”—the Higher Thought, the Simple Life, Socialism, Humanitarianism, it was all the same really.
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