Mr.Cray, also, made an almost imperceptible sign of concurrence.

Magnelius Grandcourt, the sixty-year _enfant terrible_ of the company, dreaded for his impulsive outbursts--though the effect of these outbursts was always very carefully considered before-hand--stepped jauntily across the floor, and lifting Geraldine's hand to his rather purplish lips, saluted it with a flourish.
"Oh, I say, Tappan, let Miss Seagrave have what she wants!" he exclaimed with a hearty disregard of caution, which outwardly disturbed but inwardly deceived nobody except Geraldine and Mrs.Severn.
Colonel Mallett thought: "The acquisitive beast is striking attitudes on his fool of a son's account." Mr.Tappan's small iron-gray eyes bored two holes through the inward motives of Mr.Grandcourt, and his mouth tightened till the seamed lips were merely a line.
"I think, Magnelius," said Colonel Mallett coldly, "that it is, perhaps, the sense of our committee that the time has practically arrived for some change--perhaps radical change--in the--in the--ah--the hitherto exceedingly wise regulations----" "_May_ I have real lace ?" cried Geraldine--"Oh, I _beg_ your pardon, Colonel Mallett, for interrupting, but I was perfectly crazy to know what you were going to say." Other people have been crazier and endured more to learn what hope the verdict of ponderous authority might hold for them.
Colonel Mallett, a trifle ruffled at the interruption, swallowed several times and then continued without haste to rid himself of a weighty opinion concerning the debut and the petticoats of the Half Moon's ward.
He might have made the child happy in one word.

It took him twenty minutes.
Concurring opinions were then solemnly delivered by every director in turn except Mr.Tappan, who spoke for half an hour, doggedly dissenting on every point.
But the days of the old regime were evidently numbered.

He understood it.

He looked across at the crackled portrait of his old friend Anthony Seagrave; the faded, painted features were obliterated in a bar of slanting sunlight.
So, concluding his dissenting opinion, and having done his duty, he sat down, drawing the skirts of his frock-coat close around his bony thighs.
He had done his best; his reward was this child's hatred--which she already forgot in the confused delight of her sudden liberation.
Dazed with happiness, to one after another Geraldine courtesied and extended the narrow childlike hand of amity--even to him.