She was drawn first by Miss Miniver, and then by her own natural interest, into a curious stratum of people who are busied with dreams of world progress, of great and fundamental changes, of a New Age that is to replace all the stresses and disorders of contemporary life. A gust of irrational impatience blew through her being. Courtlaw, who was sitting by the bedside, bent over him. He murmured his delight, and joined the bridge party, where he played with less than his accustomed skill. “It’s the stir of spring,” he said. ‘Never trust a gun in female hands,’ grumbled Hilary, dropping the nun’s habit and backing to join his friend. The first Step towards the Ladder VII.
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