She was not clever enough for sarcasm or malice, not witty enough for irony: she was a creature full of innocence and ardour, without profound intelligence, but with a nature full of warmth, generous enthusiasm, and affection.
“I—I—think you’re all fine,” he blurted out. “I think you’re great.”
“Do you, darling?” she said softly. “Well, we’re not.” She pulled him towards her with a gesture of friendly intimacy, and said: “Come on: let’s leave them all for a few minutes. I want to talk to you.”
They got up, and still with her warm hand clasped in his, they walked along the terrace and around the great, moon-whitened wings of the house on to the road that swept in an oval before it.
“Do you really like us?” she said, as they walked on down the road away from the house under a deep, nocturnal mystery of great trees through which the moonlight shone and swarmed upon the earth in mottles of light. “Don’t you like Joel? Don’t you think he’s grand?”
“I—I think he’s the best fellow in the world,” he said. “He’s—he’s just too good!”
“Oh, he’s a saint,” she said in her quiet, sweet voice. “There was never anyone like him: he’s the loveliest person I’ve ever known…. Aren’t people wonderful?” she said, and turned and paused in the moonlit road and looked at him. “I mean, there are a lot of mean ones… and useless ones… and sort of shabby ones like… like—well, like some of those people there tonight… but there’s something good in all of them—even poor little Howard Martin has something sweet and good in him: he has a kind heart—he really has—he wants to be amusing and to entertain people, he wants everyone to be happy and have a good time…. And when you meet someone like Joel, it makes up for everything else, doesn’t it?… Or George Thornton—don’t you like him? Don’t you think he’s a grand person, too?”
“He—seems fine,” he answered with some difficulty. “I—I never met him till tonight.”
“Oh, you’ll love him when you get to know him,” the girl said earnestly. “—Everybody does…. He’s another saint, just like Joel… and he’s so brave, and kind, and good—and his life has been so terrible.”
“Terrible? I—I thought he said—”
“Oh, he is, darling—he does have everything that way—money, I mean. He’s terribly rich: one of the richest young men in the world…. Only he doesn’t spend it on himself, he gives it all away and then… you see, darling,
