"Shall I go and bring you news again presently?"

"If you please," she said.

"I hope to be able to do some little things for him," went on Ralph,
dropping his eyes, and he was conscious that she momentarily looked up.

--"But I am afraid there is not much. I shall speak for him to Master
Cromwell and the Lieutenant."

The needle paused and then went on again.

Ralph was conscious of an extraordinary momentousness in every word that
he said. He was well aware that this girl was not to be wooed by
violence, but that he must insinuate his mind and sympathies delicately
with hers, watching for every movement and ripple of thought. He had
known ever since his talk with Margaret Roper that Beatrice was, as it
were, turned towards him and scrutinising him, and that any mistake on
his part, however slight, might finally alienate her. Even his gestures,
the tones of his voice, his manner of walking, were important elements.
He knew now that he was the kind of person who might be acceptable to
her--or rather that his personality contained one facet that pleased
her, and that he must be careful now to keep that facet turned towards
her continually at such an angle that she caught the flash. He had
sufficient sense, not to act a part, for that, he knew, she would soon
discover, but to be natural in his best way, and to use the fine
instincts that he was aware of possessing to tell him exactly how she
would wish him to express himself. It would be a long time yet, he
recognised, before he could attain his final object; in fact he was not