He jerked his hand forward, still preserving his respectful attitude. Richard gave his own hand carelessly, smiling as a man does who cannot but enjoy flattery yet has a strong desire to kick the flatterer out of the room. ‘Are you a member of the Union?’ he inquired. ‘With pride I profess myself a member. Some day--and that at no remote date--I may have it in my power to serve the cause materially.’ He smiled meaningly. ‘The press--you understand?’ He spread his fingers to represent wide dominion. ‘An ally to whom the columns of the _bourgeois_ press are open--you perceive? It is the task of my life.’ ‘What papers do you write for?’ asked Mutimer bluntly. ‘Several, several. Not as yet in a leading capacity. In fact, I am feeling my way. With ends such as I propose to myself it won’t do to stand committed to any formal creed in politics. Politics, indeed! Ha, ha!’ He laughed scornfully. Then, turning to Alice-- ‘You will forgive me, I am sure, Miss Mutimer, that I address myself first to your brother--I had almost said your illustrious brother. To be confessed illustrious some day, depend upon it. I trust you are well?’ ‘Thanks, I’m very well indeed,’ murmured Alice, rather disconcerted by such politeness. ‘And Mrs. Mutimer? That is well. By-the-by,’ he proceeded to Richard, ‘I have a piece of work in hand that will deeply interest you. I am translating the great treatise of Marx, “Das capital.” It occurs to me that a chapter now and then might see the light in the “Fiery Cross.” How do you view that suggestion?’ Richard did not care to hide his suspicion, and even such an announcement as this failed to move him to cordiality. ‘You might drop a line about it to Mr. Westlake,’ he said. ‘Mr. Westlake? Oh! but I quite understood that you had practically the conduct of the paper.’ Richard again smiled. ‘Mr. Westlake edits it,’ he said. Mr. Keene waved his hand in sign of friendly intelligence. Then he changed the subject. ‘I ventured to put at Miss Mutimer’s disposal certain tickets I hold--professionally--for the Regent’s Theatre to-night--the dress circle. I have five seats in all. May I have the pleasure of your company, Mr. Mutimer?’ ‘I’m only in town for a night,’ Richard replied; ‘and I can’t very well spare the time.’ ‘To be sure, to be sure; I was inconsiderate. Then Miss Mutimer and my friend Harry--’ ‘I’m sorry they’re not at liberty,’ was Richard’s answer to the murmured interrogation. ‘If they had accepted your invitation be’ so good as to excuse them. I happen to want them particularly this evening.’ ‘In that case, I have of course not a word to say, save to express my deep regret at losing the pleasure of their company. But another time, I trust. I--I feel presumptuous, but it is my earnest hope to be allowed to stand on the footing not only of a comrade in the cause, but of a neighbour; I live quite near. Forgive me if I seem a little precipitate. The privilege is so inestimable.’