There had been a party meeting on the subject of the Bill, and Ferrier
and the front bench had, on the whole, carried the indorsement of their
policy. But there was an active and discontented minority, full of
rebellious projects for the general election.
On this particular afternoon Ferrier had been dealing with the
Government Bill on the lines laid down by the meeting at Grenville
House. His large pale face (the face of a student rather than a
politician), with its small eyes and overhanging brows; the straight
hair and massive head; the heavy figure closely buttoned in the familiar
frock-coat; the gesture easy, animated, still young--on these well-known
aspects a crowded House had bent its undivided attention. Then Ferrier
sat down; a bore rose; and out flowed the escaping tide to the lobbies
and the Terrace.
Marsham found himself on the Terrace, among a group of malcontents:
Barton, grim and unkempt, prophet-eyes blazing, mouth contemptuous; the
Scotchman McEwart, who had been one of the New Year's visitors to
Tallyn, tall, wiry, red-haired, the embodiment of all things shrewd and
efficient; and two or three more. A young London member was holding
forth, masking what was really a passion of disgust in a slangy
nonchalance.
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