moments，she
thought，the
thing is
made that
endures。
“Yes，”she
assured
William
Bankes，“there
is plenty
for
everybody。”
“Andrew，”she
said，“hold
your plate
lower，or I
shall
spill
it。”（The
BOEUF EN
DAUBE was
a perfect
triumph。）Here，she
felt，putting
the spoon
down，where
one could
move or
rest；could
wait
now（they
were all
helped）listening；could
then，like
a hawk
which
lapses
suddenly
from its
high
station，flaunt
and sink
on
laughter
easily，resting
her whole
weight
upon what
at the
other end
