"Journal of a Woman of Thirty," and had showed him some loose pages of it which had rather surprised him by a certain gift of hectic expression. She had also gone seriously into charity work, had joined several societies, had set aside a tenth of her income for such contributions, and was looking about for some special work to do for the poor children of the city.
In all these efforts to fill the essential void of her life, Basil lent what aid he could. Her real suffering touched him, though her passionate expression of it often irritated and repelled him. There was no deep sympathy in him for people, like Isabel, ill-adjusted to life, with inordinate claims, with demands that seemed to him essentially unreasonable. The quality in himself which had attracted Isabel, his ability to be essentially content, what she called his happiness, was exactly what limited his sympathy, and his real liking for her. She was beginning to see that limitation in him, to feel that there was no place for her in his life. Passionately, all of a sudden, breaking in upon his talk about her work, she accused him of lack of spirituality, of essential materialism.
"You aren't interested in these things, in trying to make the world a little more tolerable!" she cried. "You don't believe in anything I'm trying to do. You take it only as another way
