She let herself in and found the hall dusky and obscure. The lamp had not
yet been lit. She heard a voice:
"Who's that?"
She looked up and saw her mother, a little, slender figure, standing at
the turn of the stairs holding in her hand a lighted candle.
"It's I, mother, Joan. I've just come from Gladys Sampson's."
"Oh! I thought it would be Falk. You didn't pass Falk on your way?"
"No, mother dear."
She went across to the little cupboard where the coats were hung. As she
poked her head into the little, dark, musty place, she could feel that her
mother was still standing there, listening.
Chapter IV
The Genial Heart
Ronder was never happier than when he was wishing well to all mankind.
He could neither force nor falsify this emotion. If he did not feel it he
did not feel it, and himself was the loser. But it sometimes occurred that
the weather was bright, that his digestion was functioning admirably, that
he liked his surroundings, that he had agreeable work, that his prospects
were happy--then he literally beamed upon mankind and in his fancy
showered upon the poor and humble largesse of glittering coin.
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