The street was densely
packed, and Jimmy's apparently simple course of returning straight to
the hotel proved to be a work of much time and difficulty. But the stir
of life was there, all around them, and May's eyes grew bright as she
felt it. Now at least it could not seem a difficult question whether the
result were worth the effort; triumph drove out such doubts.
"I'm so glad we've won; I'm so glad we've won," she kept repeating in
simple girlish enthusiasm as Jimmy steered her through the crowd,
heading towards the Bull whenever he could make a yard or two. "Though
I'm awfully sorry for Lady Mildmay," she added once.
So long were they in getting through that on their arrival they found
that Quisante had reached home before them. His journey had been
hurried; he had been taken faint and the rejoicings were of necessity
interrupted; he was upstairs now on the sofa. May ran up, followed by
Fanny and Jimmy, passing many groups of anxious friends on the way.
Quisante was stretched in a sort of stupor; he was quite white, his eyes
were closed.
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