Titherington was by this time talking with all his usual buoyant confidence, but I still caught the furtive look in his eyes which I had noticed at first. He seemed to me to have something to conceal, to be challenging criticism and to be preparing to defend himself. Now a man who is on the defensive and who wants to conceal something has generally acted in a way of which he is ashamed. I felt encouraged. “You didn’t commit me in any way, I hope,” I said. “Certainly not. I didn’t have to. She was as keen as nuts on helping us and didn’t ask a single question about your views on the suffrage question. I needn’t say I didn’t introduce the subject.” “You didn’t sign anything, I suppose?” Titherington became visibly embarrassed. He hesitated. “I rather expected you’d have to,” I said. “It wasn’t anything of the slightest importance.” “Selby-Harrison drew it up, I expect.” “So she said. But it didn’t matter in the least. If it had been anything that tied us down I shouldn’t have signed it.” “You would,” I said. “Whatever it was you’d have signed it.” “She rather rushed me. She’s a most remarkable young woman. However that’s all the better for us. If she’s capable of rushing me,” Titherington’s chest swelled again as he spoke, “she’ll simply make hay of Vittie. It would be worth going to hear her heckling that beast on votes for women. Believe me, he won’t like it.” “She had you at a disadvantage,” I said. “You hadn’t breakfasted.” Titherington became suddenly thoughtful. “I wish I knew more about ordinary law,” he said. “I’m all right on Corrupt Practices and that kind of thing, but I don’t know the phraseology outside of electioneering. Do you think a Jun. Soph. Ord. can be any process in a libel action?” “It might be. Why do you ask?” “Well, the paper I signed was a sort of agreement to indemnify them in case of proceedings for libel. I signed because I didn’t think a girl like that would be likely to say anything which Vittie would regard as a libel. He’s a thick-skinned hound.” “She once libelled twenty-three bishops, she and Hilda and Selby-Harrison between them.” “After all,” said Titherington, “you can say pretty near anything you like at an election. Nobody minds. I think we’re pretty safe. I’ll see that anything she says at our meetings is kept out of the papers, and she won’t get the chance of making regular speeches at Vittie’s.” I felt quite sorry for Titherington. The interview with Lalage had evidently been even more drastic than I expected. “Perhaps,” I said soothingly, “they’ll give her six weeks for the Jun. Soph. Ord., whatever it is, and then the whole election will be over before she gets out.” “We can’t allow that,” said Titherington. “It would be a downright scandal to subject a girl like that--why, she’s quite young and--and actually beautiful.” “We must hope that the Puffin may prove, as she expects, to be a disguised lamb.” “I wish I knew who he is. I might get at him.”