— XVI —BRAVED!
As if Man, made for the contemplation of Heaven and all noble objects, should doe nothing but kneele before a little Idoll!
—Bacon
Bales, his wooden features betraying a lively curiosity, returned to usher in a policeman in uniform, and found the door more difficult to shut than usual.
“Why, the man’s Yarker!” cried Mrs. Staniland, who seemed to consider this fact, for some reason, a fresh personal injury.
It was Yarker; he was standing on the top step, his air of potential insolence had vanished, and he was fondling his helmet with a constraint which somehow inspired Campion with a sudden hope that his visit might after all be unprofessional.
“Yes, madam,” he was saying, with a graceful butler’s inclination, oddly out of keeping with his uniform; “I hope I see you wel
