Withers did not know whether to stay or to go, but before he could reply Charles Repton in the most ordinary of tones went on: “I can’t understand a man like you, Withers, putting up with it. You’re rich, you’re a gentleman born, which I’m not; you’d be just as big a man in Buckinghamshire, especially nowadays when the county’s crawling with Jews, if you were out of the House. You’d be infinitely freer. You know perfectly well the country’ll stagger along without the silly tom-fool business or with it, and that neither it nor anything else can prevent the smash. Why don’t you go and live your life of a squire like a sensible chap? And make one prayer that you may die before the whole bag of tricks comes to an end?” “Come along, Charles,” said Withers smoothly, “do come along.” “Not I!” said Repton, “I’m going to bed. I’m tired, and my head hurts me!” And he went out like a boor. “Lady Repton,” said Withers very gently when he had gone, “what has Charles got to do to-morrow?” “He never tells me,” said the wretched lady. “I suppose he will go into the City as usual.” “It’s very unwise,” said Withers, “and yet I don’t know after all. It might help him to be in harness, and you’ll have him out of the house while you’re making your plans. I’ll do what I can, Lady Repton, I’ll do what I can. Isn’t to-morrow the meeting of the Van Diemens Company?” “I can’t tell,” said Lady Repton despairingly. She was impatient to be seeing to her husband. She had grown terrified during the last few hours when he was out of her sight. “Yes, it is,” said Withers. “Oh that’ll be all right. It’ll do him all the good in the world: I’m sure it will. Good-night.” He came back again. He remembered something: “Of course,” he said a little awkwardly, “ I don’t know anything about these things, but I read in the paper that he was down to speak at the big Wycliffite meeting. Don’t let him go there, Lady Repton, until you’re quite certain, will you?” “Oh no,” she said with the terrified look coming back again upon her face. “It’s not like business,” said Withers. “There’d be excitement, you know. Good-night.” And he went out. * * * * * Those of Charles Repton’s guests who were Members of the House of Commons had returned to it. One or two of them had hinted that things were a little queer with Repton, but Withers when he got back just in time for the divisions, found no rumours as yet, and was profoundly grateful. One man only who had been present at the dinner, took him aside in the Lobby and asked him whether Charles Repton had had any trouble. Withers laughed the question away, and explained that he had known Repton for many years and that now and then he did give way to these silly fits of temper. It was digestion, he said; perhaps the guest had noticed there were no onions.