Her eyes flashed. “Everything that happens,” she cried passionately, “is only something to be fixed up in your own mind. Once you’ve got it arranged there , the whole thing’s settled⁠ ⁠… all is well. What you never seem to realize, for all your talk about ‘good’ and ‘evil,’ is that events are something outside any one person’s mind. Nothing’s finished ⁠ ⁠… until you take in the feelings of everyone concerned! And what’s more, Wolf,” she went on, “not only do you refuse really to understand other people; but I sometimes think there’s something in you yourself you’re never even aware of, with all your self-accusations. It’s this blindness to what you’re really doing that lets you off , not your gestures, not even your sideway flashes of compassion.”

A certain direct and childish humility in Wolf’s nature came to the surface now under this attack.