The whole assembly seemed rather
like a room full of condemned spirits, with this woman sitting as
presiding judge.
As we still stood by the door a hush fell on the company; men and
women seemed to catch their breath and bend more intently over the
table. There was a pause; then someone called the number
"Thirty-one," and the buzz of voices broke out again--a mixture of
exclamations and disappointed murmurs. Then, and not till then, did
the woman at the head of the table speak, and when she spoke her
words were addressed to us.
"Come in, gentlemen, come in. You have not chosen your moment well,
for the Bank is winning; but you are none the less welcome."
Her eyes as she turned them again upon us did not alter their
expression. They were--though I can scarcely hope that this
description will be understood--at once perfectly vigilant and
absolutely impassive. But even more amazing was the voice that
contradicted both these impressions, being most sweetly and
delicately modulated, with a musical ring that charmed the ear as the
notes of a well-sung song.
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