Dartrey had a private room of his own in
the rear of the building and he and Tallente made their way there.
"Those men have a good deal to decide," Tallente reflected. "It's queer
how the balance of things has changed. I don't suppose any Cabinet
Council for years has had to tackle a more important problem."
"I wonder how they'll vote," Dartrey speculated. "Weavel's our man."
"You can't tell," Tallente replied. "You've given them something fresh
to think about. They may even decide not to vote to-day at all. Miller
has some strong supporters. He appeals tremendously to a certain class
of labour--and that class exists, you know, Dartrey--which loves the
excitement and the loafing of a strike, which feels somehow or other
that benefits got in any other way than by force are less than they
ought to have been."
There was a knock at the door. Northern put in his head. He was the
Boot and Shoe representative.
"Thought I'd let you know how the thing's gone," he said. "There's an
unholy row there. They've chucked Miller. Saunderson's in by five
votes.
Pages:
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393