From the first there had always been between her and her listeners that electrical sympathy which only a certain order of genius seems able to create. Footman or some such. And then: “Of course! Always. ” At the sight of her tears his expression changed to a mingling of triumph and concern. A lean young man in spectacles pursued her for some time, crying “Courage! Courage!” Somebody threw a dab of mud at her, and some of it got down her neck. He sat up in his chair again, the colour came back to his cheeks. He was a wonderful little creature with a perfect tiny face, mottled pink cheeks, and eyes brighter than May.
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