to play a passive part in the talk.
“Socialism!” she cried, catching the word. “It's well Pa isn't here. He has Fits when people talk of socialism. Fits!”
The initial laughed in a general kind of way.
The curate said there was socialism AND socialism, and looked at Margaret to gauge whether he had been too bold in this utterance. But she was all, he perceived, for broad-mindness, and he stirred himself (and incidentally his tea) to still more liberality of expression. He said the state of the poor was appalling, simply appalling; that there were times when he wanted to shatter the whole system, “only,” he said, turning to me appealingly, “What have we got to put in its place?”
“The thing that exists is always the more evident alternative,” I said.
The little curate looked at it for a moment. “Precisely,” he said explosively, and turned stirring and with his head