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"No one stopped talking for a moment." "That's the real kind," said Ansell moodily. "The only kind." "Well, I," he continued, "am inclined to compare her to an electric light. Click! she's on. Click! she's off. No waste. No flicker." "I wish she'd fuse." "She'll never fuse unless anything was to happen at the main."
About the greatcoat he did not tell them, for he could not have spoken of it without tears. Mr. Ansell, a provincial draper of moderate prosperity, ought by rights to have been classed not with the cow, but with those phenomena that are not really there. But his son, with pardonable illogicality, excepted him.
Ah, I see you're blushing to find it fame, Miss Ansell." Esther laughed, though a bit annoyed. "How can you suspect me of writing orthodox leaders?" she asked. "Well, who else is there?" urged Sidney, with mock naïveté. "I went down there once and saw the shanty. The editorial sanctum was crowded. Poor Raphael was surrounded by the queerest looking set of creatures I ever clapped eyes on.
"So I don't feel as if he was far away," said Debby. "I can always look out and picture him squatting above the stone instead of beneath it." "But didn't you get another?" "Oh, how can you talk so heartlessly?" "Forgive me, dear; of course you couldn't replace him. And haven't you had any other friends?" "Who would make friends with me, Miss Ansell?" Debby asked quietly.
Perhaps I shan't ever be able to keep myself. I shan't even get a good social position. You've only to say one word, and I'll work for the Civil Service. I'm good enough to get in high." Mr. Ansell liked money and social position. But he knew that there is a more important thing, and replied, "You must take up this philosophy seriously, I think." "Another thing there are the girls."
A silence, akin to poetry, invaded Ansell. Was it only a pose to like this man, or was he really wonderful? He was not romantic, for Romance is a figure with outstretched hands, yearning for the unattainable. Certain figures of the Greeks, to whom we continually return, suggested him a little. One expected nothing of him no purity of phrase nor swift edged thought.
That is what I mean when I say that she is a lady." "You are too subtle for me. My dull eyes could only see two happy people." "I never said they weren't happy." "Then, my dear Ansell, why are you so cut up? It's beastly when a friend marries, and I grant he's rather young, but I should say it's the best thing for him.
"'Esther Ansell For improvement! When a book's spiled like that, what can you expect for it?" "Why, it's the inscription that makes it valuable," said Esther tearfully. "Maybe," said the rubicund man gruffly. "But d'yer suppose I should just find a buyer named Esther Ansell?" Do you suppose everybody in the world's named Esther Ansell or is capable of improvement?"
All letters would be forwarded. Upon that the junior partner stood, inexpugnable. Raphael went out, not uncomforted. He would write to her at once. He got letter-paper at the nearest restaurant and wrote, "Dear Miss Ansell." The rest was a blank. He had not the least idea how to renew the relationship after what seemed an eternity of silence.
But the sea has not altered, and it was only a chance that he, Ansell, Tilliard, and Mrs. Aberdeen had not all been killed in the tram. They waited for the other tram by the Roman Catholic Church, whose florid bulk was already receding into twilight. It is the first big building that the incoming visitor sees.
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