But I can't help
letting fall my little tear of fellowship with the weeping."
"And mind your p's and q's," she added. "You're in a difficult position.
And not all the eyes watching you are friendly."
Joan bore the germ of worry in her breast as she crossed the Gray's Inn
Garden. It was a hard law, that of the world: knowing only winners and
losers. Of course, the woman was to be pitied. No one could feel more
sorry for her than Joan herself. But what had Madge exactly meant by
those words: that she could "see her doing something really big," if she
thought it would help him? There was no doubt about her affection for
him. It was almost dog-like. And the child, also! There must be
something quite exceptional about him to have won the devotion of two
such opposite beings. Especially Hilda. It would be hard to imagine any
lengths to which Hilda's blind idolatry would not lead her.
She ran down twice to Folkestone during the following week. Her visits
made her mind easier. Mrs. Phillips seemed so placid, so contented.
There was no suggestion of suffering, either mental or physical.
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