There came a wild rush of anthropological lore into her brain, a flare of indecorous humor. He's on the ragged edge. A smile trembled at the corners of her mouth as she recalled Gerald’s ridiculous upbraiding of his own reflection in the mirror. " "On the contrary, if that is a specimen, they must be poets. They were silent for a time. ‘What happened, ma’am?’ enquired Gerald gently. . ‘You see, I had another reason for visiting your grandfather. His literary instincts were reviving. ” She smiled at him cheerfully. A young man was playing the banjo. “I hope,” said Miss Stanley, with dignity, and turned doorward with features in civil warfare.
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