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It began in the eyes and spread to the lips: warm, embracing, even fatherly. “A ballot-box, you know,” he said, “is very largely just a box. I packed them with the other few things I owned. “This girl—she’s really a very charming, frank person—had had her imagination fired, so she told me, by a school performance of Romeo and Juliet. She fell into another slumber, one which was more like a blackout. Her eye met Miss Stanley’s understandingly, and she was if anything a trifle more affectionate in her greeting to Ann Veronica. He turned in at the club.
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