“That’s the genuine article, isn’t it?” said Gleam, turning to her smilingly.
She nodded, rested her glance thoughtfully upon him for a moment. He seemed so small, precise, uninspiring compared with the huge-limbed man with the leonine face and rolling voice who had just been swaying her.
“He is a power among these people,” she said below her breath.
“I deserve some credit, don’t I?” he remarked. He was proud of Goddard, honestly delighted at the impression his pupil had made upon Lady Phayre.
The succeeding speeches, modest and formal, after Goddard’s magnetic harangue, were quickly over. After three cheers for Dan Goddard, the audience broke up. The occupants of the platform formed into little groups. Gleam drew Goddard from the largest of these.
“I want to present you to Lady Phayre, the Lady Superior of the League.”
And before the other could reply, he had taken him prisoner by the lapel of his coat, and brought him, in his brisk way, to where Lady Phayre was standing, and had gone through the formality of presentation.
“You have had a great success to-night, Mr. Goddard,” she said.
“It is easy to speak to an enthusiastic audience,” said Goddard. “You see we mean business,” he added, addressing Gleam. “We’ve done our share in agitation. It is for you people in the House now to carry the bill through.”
“I’ll undertake to see that they don’t halt by the way,” said Lady Phayre with bewitching authority.