She detected that the young officer’s shoulders tensed whenever she moved in the back of his 94 car. He did not know what her game was, although he had a shrewd suspicion that she had been co-opted into it by her supposed husband, the soi-disant Valade. I have sinned deeply; but I have been sorely tried. The acid of this incertitude had disintegrated his nerve; and in Canton had come the smash. “What is going on between you two?” Lucy asked. He remained listening attentively. The policeman raised his voice, slightly agitated. She became more and more alive, not so much to a system of ideas as to a big diffused impulse toward change, to a great discontent with and criticism of life as it is lived, to a clamorous confusion of ideas for reconstruction—reconstruction of the methods of business, of economic development, of the rules of property, of the status of children, of the clothing and feeding and teaching of every one; she developed a quite exaggerated consciousness of a multitude of people going about the swarming spaces of London with their minds full, their talk and gestures full, their very clothing charged with the suggestion of the urgency of this pervasive project of alteration.
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