‘And she’s—’ She broke off, a sudden light in her eyes. A fire enveloped her, a fire which was strangely healing, filling her heart with warmth, blotting out the menace of the world. To-morrow at twelve I'll be with you, Mr. I know nothing about the girl, save what you have told me. McClintock says they can't get in there, or at least they never try it. The poor old imbecile! Why, this child was a firebrand, a wrecker, if ever he had seen one; and the worst kind because she was unconscious of her gifts. 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.
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