Besides, nearly
all the papers admit that your defeat was owing to a political intrigue.
The very men who should have supported you--who had promised to support
you, in fact--went against you at the last moment. That was entirely
due to Miller, wasn't it?"
"Miller has been my political bete noir for years," he confessed. "To
me he represents the ignominious pacifist, whereas to him I represent
the sabre-rattling jingo. I got the best of it while the war was on.
To-day it seems to me that he has an undue share of influence in the
country."
"Who are the men who really represent what you and I would understand as
Labour?" she asked.
"That is too difficult a question to answer offhand," he replied.
"Personally, I have come to the conclusion that Labour is
unrepresentable--Labour as a cause. There are too many of the people
yet who haven't vision."
They passed into the cool, geranium-scented hall. She pointed to an
easy-chair by the side of which was set, on a small mahogany table, a
silver cocktail shaker and two glasses.
"Please be as comfortable as you can," she begged, "for a quarter of an
hour.
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