“A ballot-box, you know,” he said, “is very largely just a box. Brendon looked across the room at her thoughtfully. 47, straightening her hat and waiting for her luggage to appear. Well, you shall know. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. Their example was immediately imitated by the officers, constables, javelin men, and other attendants; and nothing was to be heard but shouts of laughter and jesting,—nothing seen but the passing of glasses, and the emptying of foaming jugs. He met her eyes with his fiery black gaze. The doctor's lessons, perhaps delivered with too much serious emphasis, had destroyed that buoyant confidence in her ability to take care of herself.
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