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. . . WOULD IT NOT BE BETTER AFTER ALL TO
MAKE A CONCESSION, SWALLOW HOME RULE OR TARIFF REFORM, AND SO AT
LEAST GET HIS HANDS ON THINGS?
And then in a little while the party conflict would swallow him up?
Still it would engage him, it would hold him. If, perhaps, he did
not let it swallow him up. If he worked with an eye open for
opportunities of self-assertion. . . .
The party game had not altogether swallowed "Mr. Arthur." . . .
But every one is not a Balfour. . . .
He reflected profoundly. On his left knee his left hand rested with
two fingers held up. By some rapid mental alchemy these fingers had
now become Home Rule and Tariff Reform. His right hand which had
hitherto taken no part in the controversy, had raised its index
finger by imperceptible degrees. It had been raised almost
subconsciously. And by still obscurer processes this finger had
become Mrs. Skelmersdale. He recognized her sudden reappearance
above the threshold of consciousness with mild surprise. He had
almost forgotten her share in these problems.


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