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Her aunt did not object to capital punishment or war, or the industrial system or casual wards, or flogging of criminals or the Congo Free State, because none of these things really got hold of her imagination; but she did object, she did not like, she could not bear to think of people not having and enjoying their meals. You could walk the city streets and with every blink you could take in a new sight of beauty so great that your heart would weep for it. It was not only that her father had said all sorts of inconsistent and unreasonable things, but that by some incomprehensible infection she herself had replied in the same vein. "Affairs are not normal in Canton at present. “Thank you both for treating me for all the world like I was your child. ‘She wormed it out of me, the little fiend. She had flung away from her father’s support with the finest assumption of personal independence. ‘The old man who lives here, idiot. That handsome, finely drawn face belonged to a soul with clean ideals. There was plenty of sweet water.
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