"But we tell similar lies every day. It is a
matter of training, and the English are better trained, that is all. Your
countrymen will be trained as well in time. As Mr. Tudor said, the
Yankees are young."
"Thank goodness we haven't begun to tell such lies yet!" was Joan's
ejaculation.
"Oh, but you have," Sheldon said quickly. "You were telling me a lie of
that order only the other day. You remember when you were going up the
lantern-halyards hand over hand? Your face was the personification of
duplicity."
"It was no such thing."
"Pardon me a moment," he went on. "Your face was as calm and peaceful as
though you were reclining in a steamer-chair. To look at your face one
would have inferred that carrying the weight of your body up a rope hand
over hand was a very commonplace accomplishment--as easy as rolling off a
log. And you needn't tell me, Miss Lackland, that you didn't make faces
the first time you tried to climb a rope. But, like any circus athlete,
you trained yourself out of the face-making period. You trained your
face to hide your feelings, to hide the exhausting effort your muscles
were making. It was, to quote Mr. Tudor, a subtler exhibition of
physical prowess. And that is all our English reserve is--a mere matter
of training.
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