"As a matter of fact he hadn’t lived with her for years, and neither of them took the least interest in the other, but his agent waxed positively hysterical over the sentimental aspect of the case. Had there been universal suffrage I’ve no doubt that the wife would have plumped her vote for the rival candidate," said Beadon. "By the bye, Farquharson, you’re in favour of Tariff Reform, of course. Mrs. Brand asked me the other day to persuade you to speak for us at our monster meeting at the Albert Hall next Monday. You would be in good company; we have a fine show of speakers." "Delighted, of course," said Farquharson impassively. "It begins at eight o’clock, doesn’t it?" He took out his note-book. Brand eagerly interposed. "Mr. Calvert has just promised to dine with us that evening. Will you come too? Lady Wereminster always invites my wife to her box; Lord Meavy and Lord Creagh are coming too. We shall have to feed at an unearthly hour, but perhaps you won’t mind that under the circumstances." "Thanks very much, I shall be delighted," said Farquharson again. Evelyn, amazed, leant back in her seat and whispered to her husband under cover of her fan. "I didn’t know that they were coming. When did you ask them?" Brand bent down, adjusting his opera-glasses. "Don’t give yourself away. The others will be glad enough to come if Calvert and Farquharson do. Once capture the coming man and others will follow. You must help me, Evelyn; it means everything to me to have it known Calvert visits us." "Of course I’ll do my best. Oh, hush!" said Evelyn. The orchestra had begun playing the first notes of that exquisite prelude to _Tristan and Isolde_ which, _motif_ by _motif_, leads from the first confession of love by way of desire and magic and mystery to the deliverance of death. Wagner opera was to Farquharson a new experience. He had come that night in a cynical enough mood. The darkness that enfolded the great assembly in its mantle, the hush and tension under which it laboured, listening without movement, rather as one corporate body than as a crowd of separate entities, struck him at first as a mere pose. But presently the power and strength and pathos of the music carried him away as it carried others. This was real flesh and blood; impatience, ardour, glory, the very song of the sea, transport and passion, blending with underlying chords of human sorrow—each in turn rang true.