Gosse was much in the self-sufficing and exclusive society of the surviving Pre-Raphaelites, sauntering in that fenced and Olympian circle, equally at ease with high priest and acolyte. He abounded in recollections of their idiosyncrasies, their passionate dedication to art, and their sectional differences of opinion. It was at a time when 'anarchist' was as much on people's lips as 'Bolshevik' in the present day; soft dark hats, cloaks and spreading neckties, were common to artist and revolutionary. Gosse entering a crowded omnibus found himself opposite W. M. Rossetti and his daughter.—
'I understand you are an anarchist,' said Gosse, urged to the remark by the appearance of his friend. 'I must differentiate,' replied Rossetti in the loud tones that seemed to have been habitual with the Brotherhood. 'I am an atheist: my daughter is an anarchist.'
An answer that led to a speedy evacuation of the conveyance by the other passengers.
From Charteris, Life of Gosse, p. 200.