Even Mr.Chown, the draper, though scornful of such fopperies, had thought it due to his position as a town-councillor to don the invidious garb; he was not disposed to herd among the undistinguished at the back of the room.
Ladies were in great force, though many of them sought places with an abashed movement, not quite sure whether what they were about to hear would be strictly "proper." One there was who betrayed no such tremors; the position she assumed was about the middle of the hall, and from time to time curious looks were cast in that direction.
The clock pointed to eight.

Punctually to the moment a side door was thrown open, and a procession of gentlemen ascended the platform.
Members of the committee seated themselves in a row of arm-chairs; Mr.
William Glazzard took his place not far from the reading-desk, and behind it subsided the lecturer.
In these instants Denzil Quarrier was the prey of sudden panic.

He had imagined that his fortitude was proof against stage-fright, but between the door and his seat on the platform he suffered horribly.

His throat was parched and constricted; his eyes dazzled, so that he could see nothing; his limbs were mere automatic mechanism; he felt as though some one had set his ears on fire.

He strove wildly to recollect his opening sentences; but they were gone.