"I mean that some time,--perhaps sometime soon--I shall be ready to argue the whole thing with you--what's right and what's wrong. Now I can't argue--I'm not free to. Don't you see--'Ours not to make reply,--ours but to do, or die.'" Her smile flashed out. "There's not going to be any dying about it however--you know that as well as I do." Then with a touch of mockery she bent towards him. "You won't persuade me, Mr. Mark, that you take us very seriously! But I'm not angry at that--I'm not angry--at anything!" And her face, as he scanned it, melted--changed--became all soft sadness, and deprecating appeal. Never had she seemed to him so fascinating. Never had he felt himself so powerless. He thought, despairingly--"If I had her to myself, I could take her in my arms, and make her give way!" But here were the first signs of arrival--a narrow Westminster street--a towering group of flats. The taxi stopped, and Winnington jumped out. Chapter XVII Delia's luggage was brought in by the hall porter, and she and Winnington stood waiting for the lift. Meanwhile Winnington happened to notice, through the open door of the mansions, a couple of policemen standing just outside, on the pavement, and two others on the further side of the street. It seemed to him they were keeping the house which Delia and he had just entered under observation. The lift descended. There were in it four women, all talking eagerly in subdued tones. One was grey-haired, the others were quite young girls. The strained, excited look on all their faces struck Winnington sharply as they emerged from the lift. One of the girls looked curiously at Delia and her tall companion. The grey-haired lady's attention was caught by the policeman outside. She gave a little chuckle. "We shall have plenty to do with those gentry to-morrow!" she said to the girl beside her, drawing her cloak round her so that it displayed a black and orange badge. Delia approached her. "Is Miss Marvell here?" They all stopped and eyed her. "Yes, she's upstairs. She's just come back from the Central. But she's very busy," said the elder lady. "She won't see you without an appointment." One of the girls suddenly looked at Delia, and whispered to the speaker. "Oh, I see!" said that lady, vaguely. "Are you Miss Blanchflower?" "Yes." "I beg your pardon. Miss Marvell's expecting you of course. Do make her rest a bit if you can. She's simply _splendid_! She's going to be one of our great leaders. I'm glad you won't miss it after all. You've been delayed, haven't you?--by somebody's illness. Well, it's going magnificently! We shall make Parliament listen--at last. Though they'll protect themselves no doubt with any number of police--cowards!" The eyes of the speaker, as her face came into the light of the hall lamp, sparkled maliciously. She seemed to direct her words especially to Winnington, who stood impassive. Delia turned to the lift, and they ascended.