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Tietjens was chalk-white and stiffened. He stuttered: 'I can't take any credit...I consider...'

Macmaster exclaimed:

'Tietjens...you...' he didn't know what he was going to say.

'Oh, you're too modest,' Mr Waterhouse overwhelmed Tietjens. 'We know whom we've to thank...' His eyes drifted to Sandbach a little absently. Then his face lit up.

'Oh I Look here, Sandbach,' he said...'Come here, will you?' He walked a pace or two away, calling to one of his young men: 'Oh, Sanderson, give the bobbie a drink. A good stiff one.' Sandbach jerked himself awkwardly out of his chair and limped to the Minister.

Tietjens burst out:

'Me too modest! Me!...The swine...The unspeakable swine!'

The General said:

'What's it all about, Chrissie? You probably are too modest.'

Tietjens said:

'Damn it. It's a serious matter. It's driving me out of the unspeakable office I'm in.'

Macmaster said:

'No! No! You're wrong. It's a wrong view you take.' And with a good deal of real passion he began to explain to the General. It was an affair that had already given him a great deal of pain. The Government had asked the statistical department for figures illuminating a number of schedules that they desired to use in presenting their new Bill to the Commons. Mr Waterhouse was to present it.