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'We've known them both so long,' the General went on. 'Lady Claudine in particular. And, believe me, Sylvia is a splendid girl. Straight as a die; the soul of loyalty to her friends. And fearless--she'd face the devil in his rage. You should have seen her out with the Belvoir! Of course you know her...Well then!'

Macmaster had just managed to say that he knew Sylvia, of course.

'Well then...' the General had continued...'you'll agree with me that if there is anything wrong between them he's to blame. And it will be resented. Very bitterly. He wouldn't set foot in this house again. But he says he's going out to her and Mrs Satterthwaite.

'I believe...' Macmaster had begun...'I believe he is...'

'Well then!' the General had said: 'It's all right...But Christopher Tietjens needs a good woman's backing...He's a splendid fellow. There are few young fellows for whom I have more...I could almost say respect...But he needs that. To ballast him.'

In the car, running down the hill from Mountby, Macmaster had exhausted himself in the effort to restrain his execrations of the General. He wanted to shout that he was a pig-headed old fool: a meddlesome ass. But he was in the car with the two secretaries of the Cabinet Minister: the Rt. Hon. Edward Fenwick Waterhouse, who, being himself an advanced Liberal down for a week-end of golf, preferred not to dine at the house of the Conservative member. At that date there was, in politics, a phase of bitter social feud between the parties: a condition that had not till lately been characteristic of English political life. The prohibition had not extended itself to the two younger men.