An old servant was sweeping at the end of the landing. Dixon turned towards him, saying in a soft voice: --Did an angel speak? Cranly turned also and said vehemently but without anger: --Goggins, you're the flamingest dirty devil I ever met, do you know. Lessons with me, indeed, that charming summer, we all had a theory that he was to have; but I now feel that, for weeks, the lessons must have been rather my own. So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself - nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.