CHAPTER XII. " "A miniature! Of whom?" "That I can't say," replied Jack, mysteriously. She began to look for beauty and discover it in unexpected aspects and places. But the morning brought courage again, and those first intimations of horror vanished completely from her mind. Contrasted with the confused movement and presences of a Fabian meeting, or the inexplicable enthusiasm behind the suffrage demand, with the speeches that were partly egotistical displays, partly artful manoeuvres, and partly incoherent cries for unsoundly formulated ends, compared with the comings and goings of audiences and supporters that were like the eddy-driven drift of paper in the street, this long, quiet, methodical chamber shone like a star seen through clouds.
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