him in Birkin’s mere presence.

“And I don’t want to see her going back on it all,” he said, in a clanging voice.

“Why?” said Birkin.

This monosyllable exploded in Brangwen’s brain like a shot.

“Why! I don’t believe in your new-fangled ways and new-fangled ideas—in and out like a frog in a gallipot. It would never do for me.”

Birkin watched him with steady emotionless eyes. The radical antagnoism in the two men was rousing.

“Yes, but are my ways and ideas new-fangled?” asked Birkin.

“Are they?” Brangwen caught himself up. “I’m not speaking of you in particular,” he said. “What I mean is that my children have been brought up to think and do according to the religion I was brought up in myself, and I don’t want to see them going away from that.”