"Read it out to me," said Quisante, his eyes now dwelling
gratefully on his wife's face, his brain at last resting from the long
strain of weeks of effort.
"Yes, I'll read it," she said cheerfully, almost merrily. "We shall be
full of congratulations for days now, shan't we?"
She smoothed out the sheet of paper; there were but two or three lines
of writing, and she read them aloud. She read aloud the simple
indiscreet little hymn of triumph which victory and the safety of a
private note lured from old Mr. Foster's usually diplomatic lips:--
"Just done it, thank God. Shouldn't have without Tom Sinnett, and we've
got you to thank for that idea too."
She read it all before she seemed to put any meaning into it. A silence
followed her reading. She knelt there by him, holding the sheet of
note-paper in her hands. Fanny and Jimmy stood without moving, their
eyes on her and Quisante. Slowly May rose to her feet. Quisante closed
his eyes and moved restlessly on the sofa; he sighed and put his hand up
to his head. The slightest of smiles came on May's lips as she stood
looking at him for a minute; then she turned to Fanny, saying, "I think
he'd better have a little more brandy-and-water.
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