” He said. Have you ever voted, Mr. The van started with a jerk and rumbled on its way. “It’s THE Society!” said Miss Miniver. A broken laugh followed the action. Unwillingly he drew a little nearer, and became one of the group of loiterers about the entrance. She sensed he might try and wane on her doorstep. For a few days she was fascinated by the place, exploring the moldy rooms, the weird treasures hiding in forgotten trousseaus. ’ That wonderful poster—is of you. . It is in the lower cupboard. His name was Bartolomeo di Alberti. It was long and narrow, with a ceiling supported by huge uncovered rafters, and so low as scarcely to allow a tall man like himself to stand erect beneath it. “Here, dis is for you.
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