"Ah there it is!" said Gedge with eyes of adventure that seemed to rest beyond the Atlantic.
"They listen, month after month, when they're out here, as you must have seen; then they go home and talk. But they sing your praise."
Our friend could scarce take it in. "Over there!"
"Over there. I think you must be even in the papers."
"Without abuse?"
"Oh we don't abuse every one."
Mrs. Hayes, in her beauty, it was clear, stretched the point. "They rave about you."
"Then they don't know?"
"Nobody knows," the young man declared; "it wasn't any one's knowledge, at any rate, that made us uneasy."
"It was your own? I mean your own sense?"