“I consider it an insult,” said Spanswick loudly, “to allow our friend the secretary to answer the ridic’lous attack that has been made upon him. I claim the right to reply on his behalf.” Erb sat down. “It’s all very well for men to talk who’ve never been tempted either by the attractions of ’igh society, or—what shall I say—the allurements and what not that titled parties, be they gentlemen or be they ladies, can offer, but put them in our friend Erb’s position, and wouldn’t they make mistakes the same as he has? Course they would! Besides, there’s this to be said—” Spanswick, going on with elaborate replies to attacks that had never been made, did not look at Erb, preferring to direct his argument to the contumacious Lindsay and his friends: the cheers from Erb’s supporters which greeted Spanswick’s start diminished in volume as he went on. “Drop it!” whispered somebody to him. “Drop it, old man, before you spile it.” When Spanswick came to a finish of his ingenious Mark Antony speech the room was left with the impression that charges of a very serious nature had been brought against Erb, and that the principal defence to be urged was the fact of Erb’s youth and inexperience. Erb, recognising the damage that Spanswick’s advocacy had effected, started up to argue the case from his own point of view, but he was again anticipated by a supporter, this time by a man on whose loyalty he could depend, although his stock of discretion had limits. “I claim the right to say a few words!” shouted the new man. The room cried, “Erb, Erb, Erb!” being, it seemed, anxious to see if the case could possibly be readjusted, and wishful, at any rate, to see the effort made. “Take five minutes,” ordered the Chair. “I can do it in under that,” said the other generously. “If it’s a case of argument by words, I think I’m equal to it: if it’s case of argument by fists, I jolly well know I am. Understand that, my fine friend!” he added, addressing Lindsay. Lindsay of St. Pancras, at a loss for a good repartee, suggested rather wearily that the speaker should go home and fry his face. The room looked on this as wanting in finish, and to Lindsay’s confusion gave it no applause. “You come from St. Pancras, I believe? Very well; I’ll St. Pancras you before I’ve done with you.” “Do it!” cried Lindsay, annoyed by the failure of his retort. “You do it, that’s all!” Lindsay slipped from his seat, and, evading the efforts made by neighbours to detain him, went quickly to the side of the speaker. The Chair half rose, his hammer uplifted. Erb stood up with a pained look. “Here I am,” said Lindsay, offering his scarlet face to Erb’s supporter. “Now show us what you can do.”