fancied superiority, did occasionally shake her and bring about a
revulsion against Ditmar. Janet's problem was in truth, though she failed
so to specialize it, the supreme problem of our time: what is the path to
self-realization? how achieve emancipation from the commonplace?

Was she in love with Ditmar? The question was distasteful, she avoided
it, for enough of the tatters of orthodox Christianity clung to her to
cause her to feel shame when she contemplated the feelings he aroused in
her. It was when she asked herself what his intentions were that her
resentment burned, pride and a sense of her own value convinced her that
he had deeply insulted her in not offering marriage. Plainly, he did not
intend to offer marriage; on the other hand, if he had done so, a
profound, self-respecting and moral instinct in her would, in her present
mood, have led her to refuse. She felt a fine scorn for the woman who,
under the circumstances, would insist upon a bond and all a man's worldly
goods in return for that which it was her privilege to give freely; while
the notion of servility, of economic dependence--though she did not so
phrase it--repelled her far more than the possibility of social ruin.

This she did not contemplate at all; her impulse to leave Hampton and
Ditmar had nothing to do with that....

Away from Ditmar, this war of inclinations possessed her waking mind,
invaded her dreams. When she likened herself to the other exploited
beings he drove to run his mills and fill his orders,--of whom Mr.
Siddons had spoken--her resolution to leave Hampton gained such definite
ascendancy that her departure seemed only a matter of hours.

In this perspective Ditmar appeared so ruthless, his purpose to use her
and fling her away so palpable, that she despised herself for having