His was slightly wistful in its
search for something he did not yet know. Hers was dissatisfied,
searching for something she wanted and had not got.
He was a lean young man, not very tall, but with rather the air of an
ex-college athlete. She was a plump, short girl, somewhat square in
build, but distinctly handsome, showing beautiful teeth in her cordial
smile. If the smile had been less cordial Miss Child might have
conceived the catty idea that the magnificent ruby-velvet hooded
evening cloak had been put on to impress the humble new acquaintance.
However, it would have been mean to suspect a sister of Mr. Balm of
Gilead of such a snobbish trick. And there _was_ the smile.
"Miss Child, I'm very pleased to meet you," said the handsome girl
warmly, just as her brother had hopefully prophesied. "Peter's told me
quite a lot about you. I think you're awfully brave."
"Perhaps one doesn't deserve much credit for courage in doing a thing
one wants to do," answered Winifred, her slim, ringless hand
responding to the kind pressure of the plump one wearing too many
rings. (They were all rubies to-night. Miss Rolls had read about a
wonderful Russian woman before whom men went down like ninepins and
who always matched her dresses with her jewels.
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