That she possessed any sense of humour was in itself one of those human miracles which metaphysicians are always pothering over without arriving anywhere; for her previous environment had been particularly humourless. What need had she of Gerald, or anyone? Yet, if he was here, would he not make some foolish game with her and make her laugh? Instead of behaving in this fashion so stupide, and crying, crying, crying. The first Step towards the Ladder. “I never planned it—And now I have begun—” She felt acutely that he was entitled to explanations, and as acutely that explanations were impossible that night. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. Tea in the laboratory was a sort of suffragette reception. "Mercy on us!" cried he, as a thrill of apprehension ran through his frame. " "Blessings upon him!" cried Lady Trafford, fervently. She plucked at the knots of her racket and heard him to the end, then spoke in a restrained undertone. Prudence attacked her chicken wing. He had a wild impulse to shout. " "Hadn't you better hold a moment's parley with the gentlemen before proceeding to extremities?" suggested Jonathan.
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