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Updated: May 23, 2025
And what marvellously real touches got mixed into the fantastic stuff of dreams, as if something were at work to convince the dreamer in spite of himself "Hooray!" not "Hurrah!" Just common "Hooray!" And "the English," not the literary "British." And then the soft flower had struck his forehead, and Leila's voice cried: "Jimmy!"
And it was Leila's misfortune to have moments when aesthetic sense seemed necessary. She had struggled to overcome this weakness, and that other weakness of hers a liking for men's admiration; but there had certainly been intervals when she had not properly succeeded.
He threw the letter down, and forgetting that he had asked Blake and the doctor not to alarm his people, was overcome by the coldness of Leila's letter. He lay still, and with eyes quite too full felt that life had for him little of that which once made it sweet with what all men hold most dear.
Pierson did not applaud, he was too far gone in pleasure, and sat with a rapt smile on his face, oblivious of his surroundings. He remained thus removed from mortal joys and sorrows till the last applause had died away, and Leila's voice said in his ear: "Isn't it a wonderful audience, Edward? Look at all that khaki. Who'd have thought those young men cared for music good music German music, too?"
Leila's curiosity and interest were aroused: she willingly listened to her new guide she willingly inclined to conclusions pressed upon her, not with menace, but persuasion.
And people who were born ill, and the millions of poor women, like those whom she had gone visiting with Gratian sometimes in the poorer streets of her father's parish for the first time she seemed to really know and feel the sort of lives they led. And then, Leila's face came back to her once more Leila whom she had robbed.
Dressed as Finestra, a Celtic witch woman, Leila made a striking figure in her white and green robes as she sat on the low wall bench, hands loosely clasped over one knee, her vivid features alive with disapproval. "I don't know. Nothing, I guess." Marjorie smiled into Leila's moody face. "It will scare them worse just to leave them in doubt as to whether or not they will be called to account.
"Now will you kindly take notice?" A little shout of laughter burst from the participants in the recent adventure as they obeyed Leila's exclamatory request. Coming toward them at a carefully simulated stride was a handsome young man in evening dress. From his silk opera hat to his patent leather ties he was a most elegant person.
"We stand small chance with the freshies today, unless we can line up beside the Sans and call out our merits," laughed Leila. Marjorie smiled absently, only half hearing Leila's remark. Her eyes were roving up and down the platform in an effort to pick up any girl whom the Sans might deliberately choose to overlook. She saw no one.
"Fights and fusses are not conducive to the cultivation of a scholarly mind," Helen Trent agreed with mock solemnity. "They are not," returned Leila, with a strong Celtic inflection of which she, in her earnestness, was entirely unconscious. Naturally it evoked laughter. Leila's occasional slight lapses into a brogue were invariably amusing to her chums.
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