"What's the good of turning these fellows out--will anybody tell me?--if
that's all Ferrier can do for us? Think I prefer 'em to that kind of
mush! As for Barton, I've had to hold him down by the coat-tails!"
Barton allowed the slightest glint of a smile to show itself for an
instant. The speaker--Roland Lankester--was one of his few weaknesses.
But the frown returned. He strolled along with his hands in his pockets
and his eyes on the ground; his silence was the silence of one in whom
the fire was hot.
"Most disappointing--all through!" said McEwart, with emphasis. "The
facts wrongly chosen--the argument absurd. It'll take all the heart out
of our fellows in the country."
Marsham looked up.
"Well, it isn't for want of pressure. Ferrier's life hasn't been worth
living this last month."
The tone was ambiguous. It fitted either with defence or indictment.
The London member--Roland Lankester, who was a friend of Marion Vincent,
and of Frobisher, represented an East End constituency, and lived
there--looked at the speaker with a laugh. "That's perfectly true. What
have we all been doing but 'gingering' Ferrier for the last six months?
And here's the result! No earthly good in wearing one's self to
fiddle-strings over this election! I shall go and keep pigs in Canada!"
The group strolled along the Terrace, leaving behind them an animated
crowd, all busy with the same subject.
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