Lucky there were others being made ready.
"What sort of ghosts, Mr. Brooks?" Selina asked, a little more sharply.
He started, and withdrew his eyes at last.
"Ah, Miss Bullsom," he answered, "just the ghosts we all carry with
us, you know, the ghosts of our thoughts, living and dead, good and
evil."
"How funny you are, Mr. Brooks," she exclaimed.
CHAPTER X
A NEW DON QUIXOTE
Brooks reached London the next evening to find himself famous. The
evening papers, one of which he had purchased en route, were one and all
discussing his new charitable schemes. He found himself held up at once
to ridicule and contempt--praised and blamed almost in the same breath.
The Daily Gazette, in an article entitled "The New Utopia," dubbed him
the "Don Quixote of philanthropy" the St. James's made other remarks
scarcely so flattering. He drove at once to Stepney, and found his
headquarters besieged by a crowd which his little staff of helpers was
wholly unable to cope with, and half-a-dozen reporters waiting to snatch
a word with him. Mary watched his entrance with a little sigh of
relief.
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