We must not give way to
sentiment. Our friend in the body of the hall spoke--he will forgive me
for saying so--like a poet, rather than a serious reformer. I am afraid
that if we let ourselves drop into poetry, the birth rate of this
country will very soon drop into poetry too. And that I think it is
impossible for us to contemplate with folded hands. The resolution I was
about to propose when our friend in the body of the hall----"
But Barbara's attention, had wandered off again into that queer medley
of thoughts, and feelings, out of which the little man had so abruptly
roused her. Then she realized that the meeting was breaking up, and her
mother saying:
"Now, my dear, it's hospital day. We've just time."
When they were once more in the car, she leaned back very silent,
watching the traffic.
Lady Valleys eyed her sidelong.
"What a little bombshell," she said, "from that small person! He
must have got in by mistake. I hear Mr. Courtier has a card for Helen
Gloucester's ball to-night, Babs."
"Poor man!"
"You will be there," said Lady Valleys dryly.
Barbara drew back into her corner.
"Don't tease me, Mother!"
An expression of compunction crossed Lady Valleys' face; she tried to
possess herself of Barbara's hand. But that languid hand did not return
her squeeze.
"I know the mood you're in, dear.
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