afraid that she would strike him. ‘And I, I’M not spiritual enough, I’M not as spiritual as that Hermione — !’ Her brows knitted, her eyes blazed like a tiger’s. ‘Then go to her, that’s all I say, GO to her, GO. Ha, she spiritual — SPIRITUAL, she! A dirty materialist as she is. SHE spiritual? What does she care for, what is her spirituality? What IS it?’ Her fury seemed to blaze out and burn his face. He shrank a little. ‘I tell you it’s DIRT, DIRT, and nothing BUT dirt. And it’s dirt you want, you crave for it. Spiritual! Is THAT spiritual, her bullying, her conceit, her sordid materialism? She’s a fishwife, a fishwife, she is such a materialist. And all so sordid. What does she work out to, in the end, with all her social passion, as you call it. Social passion —