Forgot your password?    Resources for students & teachers
Meredith Merle Nicholson  She rose quickly.  One of her gloves
fell to the floor and he picked it up.  The act of restoring it
brought them close together, and their talk had, he felt,
justified another searching glance into her face.  She nodded
her thanks, smiling again, and moved toward the door.  He
admired the tact which had caused her to close the discussion at
precisely the safe moment.  He was a master of the art of
closing interviews, and she had placed the period at the end of
the right sentence; it was where he would have placed it
himself.  She had laughed!—­and the novelty of being laughed at
was refreshing.  He and Thatcher had laughed in secret at the
confusion of their common enemies in old times; but most men
feared him, and he had the reputation of being a mirthless
person.  He had rarely discussed politics with women; he had an
idea that a woman’s politics, when she had any, partook of the
nature of her religion, and that it was so