United States or Mauritius ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Here there were denser crowds than ever. The entrance to the square itself was almost blocked. "What's going on here?" Maraton asked a loiterer. They heard a loud, hoarse yell, repeated several times. The man pointed with his finger. "They are round. Maraton's house," he answered. "They have broken in all his windows. He's not there or they'd have had him out and flayed him alive."
It's fine talk, yours, but it won't feed 'em." There was a murmur of sullen approval. Maraton's hand shot out, his finger quivered as it pointed to the man. "I don't blame you," he said, "but it's the cry you've just raised which keeps you and a few other millions exactly in the places you occupy. There are many generations as yet unborn, to come from your children and your children's children.
"It is a triumph, this! It is a thing to be remembered! I have brought you two together!" Maraton's first impressions of Maxendorf were curiously mixed. He saw before him a tall, lanky figure of a man, dressed in sombre black, a man of dark complexion, with beardless face and tanned skin plentifully freckled. His hair and eyes were coal black.
Maraton's eyes lit up with mirth. "Excellent!" he observed. "I have had one framed." "He is standing," Lord Armley continued, turning to Mr. Foley, "on the topmost of three tubs, his hair flying in the wind, his mouth open to about twice its normal size, with fire and smoke coming out of it. And below, a multitude! It is a splendid caricature. They tell me, Mr.
Julia alone was conscious of a certain restraint, knew that behind all the deep feeling and splendid hopefulness of Maraton's words, there was a sense of something kept back. It wasn't what he had meant to say. Something had come between Maraton and his passionate dreams of freedom. He, too, had become a particularist. He, too, was content to preach salvation piecemeal.
Perhaps we'd better let this be the end of our deliberations." Graveling rose slowly to his feet. His face was filled with evil things. He pointed to Maraton. "There's a word more to be spoken!" he exclaimed. "There's more behind this scheme of Maraton's than he's willing to have us understand! It looks to me and it sounds to me like a piece of dirty, underhand business.
"So long as you haven't taken it upon yourself to pledge us to anything, well, that disposes of question number one. The next is, where are you going to sit in the House?" Maraton's eyebrows were slightly raised. "Where am I going to sit?" he repeated. "Remember, if you please, that as a member I have never been inside your House of Commons. I am not acquainted with its procedure.
Maraton's address to-night, as I've no doubt we shall be," he added, bowing to Maraton with clumsy politeness, "that we appoint him kind of lecturer to the Unions, and we make out a sort of itinerary for him, to kind of pave the way, and then he gives one of these Chicago orations of his at the last moment in each of the principal centres.
I wished I found myself wishing that it were true!" Maraton's hands suddenly gripped the edge of the table against which he was leaning. Her face was still concealed; once more her long, slim body was shaken with quivering sobs. "The shame of it!" she moaned. "That is where he hurt. The shame of hearing it and knowing it wasn't true and of wanting it to be true!
Rubbish, I expect. . . . Run and find Lily, there's a dear boy. We are going in now." Dinner was served at a round table, and a good deal of the conversation was general. On Maraton's left hand, however, was a lady whose horror at his presence, concealed out of deference to her host, reduced her to stolid and unbending silence. Elisabeth, quickly aware of the fact, made swift atonement.
Word Of The Day