hole audience turned their
faces from the platform towards the door at the far end of the hall, and
Hyacinth, without knowing exactly what he expected, turned too.
There was a swaying visible among the crowd near the door, and almost
immediately it became clear that someone was trying to force a way
through the densely-packed people. Curses were to be heard, and even
cries from those who were being trodden on. At last a way was made.
Augusta Goold, followed by Grealy, Halloran, and Mary O'Dwyer, came
slowly up the hall towards the platform. Those of the audience whose
limbs had not been crushed or their feet mangled in preparation for her
progress cheered her wildly. Indeed, she made a regal appeal to them.
Even amidst a crowd of men her height made her conspicuous, and she had
arrayed herself for the occasion in a magnificent violet robe. It flowed
from her shoulders in spacious folds, and swept behind her, splendidly
contemptuous of the part it played as scavenger amid the accumulated
filth of the floor. Her bare arms shone out of the wide sleeves which
hung around them. Her neck rose strong and stately over the silver clasp
of a cloak which she had thrown back from her shoulders. She wore a hat
which seemed to hold her hair captive from falling loose around her. One
great tress alone escaped from it, and by some cunning manipulation was
made to stand straight out, as if blown by the wind from its fastenings.
In comparison her suite looked commonplace and mean. Poor Miss O'Dwyer
was arrayed--'gowned,' she would have said herself in reporting the
scene--in vesture not wanting in splendour, but which beside Miss
Goold's could not catch the eye. Thomas Grealy, awkward and stooped,
peered through his glasses at the crowd. Tim Halloran walked jauntily,
but his eyes glanced nervously from side to side. He was certainly ill
at ease, possibly frightened, at the position in which he found himself.

A hurried consultation took place among the gentlemen on the platform,
which ended in Mr. O'Rourke stepping forward with a smile and an
outstretched hand to welcome Augusta Goold as she ascended the steps.
The expression of his face belied the smile which he had impressed upon
his lips. His eyes had the same look of furtive malice as a dog's
which wants to bite but fears the stick. Augusta Goold waved aside the
proffered hand, and stepped unaided on to the platform. Mr. O'Rourke
placed a chair for her, but she ignored it and stood, w