The owner of the beautiful voice had come out of the caravan, she had stood for a moment in the doorway before descending the steps to the ground and the soul of Bealby had bowed down before her in instant submission. Never had he seen anything so lovely. Her straight slender body was sheathed in blue; fair hair, a little tinged with red, poured gloriously back from her broad forehead, and she had the sweetest eyes in the world. One hand lifted her dress from her feet; the other rested on the lintel of the caravan door. She looked at him and smiled.
So for two years she had looked and smiled across the footlights to the Bealby in mankind. She had smiled now on her entrance out of habit. She took the effect upon Bealby as a foregone conclusion.
Then she had looked to make sure that everything was ready before she descended.
“How good it smells, Judy!” she had said.
“I’ve had a helper,” said the woman who wore spats.
That time the blue-eyed lady had smiled at him quite definitely....
The third member of the party had appeared unobserved; the irradiations of the beautiful lady had obscured her. Bealby discovered her about. She was bareheaded; she wore a simple grey dress with a Norfolk jacket, and she had a pretty clear white profile under black hair. She answered to the name of “Winnie.” The beautiful lady was Madeleine. They made little obscure jokes with each other and praised the morning ardently. “This is the best place of all,” said Madeleine.
“All night,” said Winnie, “not a single mosquito.”
None of these three ladies made any attempt to conceal the sincerity of their hunger or their appreciation of Bealby’s assistance. How good a thing is appreciation! Here he was doing, with joy and pride and an eager excellence, the very services he had done so badly under the cuffings of Mergleson and Thomas....