'Did he say that? What a musing creature he must be.'

'He did, indeed.'

3. FROM THE TWELFTH TO THE FIFTEENTH OF JULY

As is well known, ideas are so elastic in a human brain, that they
have no constant measure which may be called their actual bulk. Any
important idea may be compressed to a molecule by an unwonted
crowding of others; and any small idea will expand to whatever
length and breadth of vacuum the mind may be able to make over to
it. Cytherea's world was tolerably vacant at this time, and the
young architectural designer's image became very pervasive. The
next evening this subject was again renewed.

'His name is Springrove,' said Owen, in reply to her. 'He is a
thorough artist, but a man of rather humble origin, it seems, who
has made himself so far. I think he is the son of a farmer, or
something of the kind.'

'Well, he's none the worse for that, I suppose.'

'None the worse. As we come down the hill, we shall be continually
meeting people going up.' But Owen had felt that Springrove was a
little the worse nevertheless.

'Of course he's rather old by this time.'

'O no. He's about six-and-twenty--not more.'