"It is perhaps primitive here, more so than elsewhere, but the people--the people--they need so much, and they--they----" "They _are_ so much," said Mary Gage gently.

"They _are_ so much.

I never knew before what real people were.

I'm so glad." Mrs.Davidson's face worked strangely, very strangely, Mary thought, so that she believed her to be afflicted with some nervous disease of the facial muscles.

But in truth Sarah Davidson was only endeavoring to get under control her own emotions, which, like all else about her, were ponderous and slow.
"Then, my dear--you will let me say 'my dear,' won't you?
It's becoming such a habit with me at my time of life--you will permit me to inquire if that is an actual expression of your attitude toward the people here?
You say you are glad?
Do you mean that, or is it a mere conventionality with you ?" Mary turned toward her with that gravity which quite commonly marked her face when all her features were at rest.
"I quite mean it all, Mrs.Davidson," said she.