She was a large, resilient girl, with a foolish smile, a still more foolish expression of earnestness, and a throaty contralto voice. The next few hours will tell. She was drawn first by Miss Miniver, and then by her own natural interest, into a curious stratum of people who are busied with dreams of world progress, of great and fundamental changes, of a New Age that is to replace all the stresses and disorders of contemporary life. They will be safe. Some of the delicate colour which the afternoon walk had brought into her cheeks had already returned. And you are something of a heroine, too. ‘Who me, sir? Lor’ no, sir.
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