She forced herself not to think of John. And even she was forced to admit to herself that this last resource of hers was a slender reed on which to lean. She frowned, appearing to think for a moment. “Before I took up the Suffrage,” a firm, flat voice remarked, “I could scarcely walk up-stairs without palpitations. He was beautiful despite the odd angle. It is a most wonderful piece of good fortune, as I suppose you will be prepared to admit. ” He put his hands in his pockets, his mouth puckered to a whistle, and he went to the door of the outer preparation-room and stood there, looking, save for the faintest intensification of his natural ruddiness, the embodiment of blond serenity.
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