The discreet Master Donkin sidled respectfully in at the door, and Gerald continued. "Moke and I would like to say how pleased we are to hear about Phillis," he said, rather awkwardly for him. "We have just got to hear how really bad she's been." The resolution was seconded by a confirmatory mumble from Master Donkin. "We met the nurse just now," continued Gerald, "and she told us about the operation, and all that. It must have been a pretty thick day for you, Adrian. And you're looking pretty rotten, too, Kitty," he added with brotherly directness. "But do you people know what time it is? Half-past eleven, nearly. The result should be out any minute. Aren't you coming to the Town Hall? They'll want you to make a speech, or get egged, or something." I looked at my watch. "Well, there's no particular reason why I shouldn't go--_now_," I said. "What do you say, Kitty? Hark! What's that?" "That's the result, I expect," said my brother-in-law. We drew up the blind and opened the window. The moon was shining brightly, and threw the monstrous shadow of the Cathedral very blackly upon the untrodden snow of the peaceful Close. Through the clear night air came the sound of frenzied cheering. "That's it, right enough," said Gerald. "I wonder if you've got the chuck, my bonny boy." "Ugh! It is cold! Come in," said Kitty. We shut the window, drew down the blind, returned to the fire, and waited. Dolly joined us now, and Kitty vanished to sit by Phillis. We waited on. Somehow it never occurred to us to send downstairs for news. I suppose there are times when the human craving for sensation is sated. We sat and waited. At last the door opened, and, as I expected, Robin entered. He looked like a man who has not been to bed for a week. He shut the door softly behind him--evidently he feared he might be entering a house of mourning--and surveyed us for a moment without speaking. I knew what was in his mind. Then he said-- "We have lost." I stood up. "On the contrary," I replied, "we have won." In a bound Robin was on the hearth-rug, gripping my hand with his. (His other had somehow got hold of one of Dolly's, and I remember wondering if he was hurting her as much as me.) "You mean it?" he roared. "I do. She is sleeping like a lamb." "Oh, man, I'm just glad! What does _anything_ matter after that?" Then we sat down and smiled upon each other largely and vacuously. We were all a little unstrung that night, I think. After all, it seems rather unreasonable to lavish one's time, labour, and money on an electoral contest, and then laugh when you lose, and say it doesn't matter, just because a child isn't going to die. Oh, I am glad Mr Cash was not there! "But I must tell you what happened when the result was read out," said Robin. "It was a near thing--a majority of twenty-seven. (I don't think it is worth while to ask for a recount: everything was done very carefully.) When the figures went up there was the usual hullabaloo----"