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Updated: June 9, 2025
It was Lord Armley who asked the first question. "Mr. Maraton," he enquired, "are you an Englishman?" "I think that I may call myself so," Maraton replied, with a smile. "I was born in America, but my parents were English." "I asked," Lord Armley continued, "whether you were an Englishman, for two reasons.
"You have put some of my own fears before me, Mr. Foley," he confessed, "in a new and very impressive light. If I thought that I myself were the only one who could teach, you would indeed terrify me. The doctrines in which I believe, however, will endure, even though I should pass." "Endure to be discarded and despised by all thinking men!" Lord Armley exclaimed.
At the sound of Maraton's name, however, he turned swiftly around. His face seemed to lighten. He held out his hand with an air almost of relief. "So you have come!" he exclaimed. "I am glad." Maraton shook hands and would have passed on, but Mr. Foley detained him. "Armley and I were talking about this after noon's decision," he continued. "There will be no secret about it to-morrow.
Maraton was more than ever conscious, as he climbed the stairs of the house in Downing Street an hour or so later, of a certain fragility of appearance in Mr. Foley, markedly apparent during these last few weeks. He was standing talking to Lord Armley, who was one of the late arrivals, as Maraton entered, talking in a low tone and with an obviously serious manner.
The working classes of the country are most of them sick of their own Labour Members. The practical men can see no further than their noses, and the theorists are too far above their heads. Maraton is the only one who seems to understand. You must have a talk with him, Armley." Lady Elisabeth, with a little smile, had turned towards the tennis courts, and Maraton came on alone. Mr.
On this side of the gate I am your uncle's guest, and I mustn't be teased with questions." "Before you go," she threatened, "I shall take you back into the rose-garden." From their wicker chairs drawn under a great cedar tree, Mr. Foley and Lord Armley, perhaps the most distinguished of his colleagues, watched the slow approach of the two from the flower gardens.
"Influence, if possible," Mr. Foley answered. "Somehow or other, I have always detected in his writing a vein of common sense." "What the dickens is common sense!" Lord Armley growled. "Shall I say a sense of the fitness of things?" the Prime Minister replied, "a sense of proportion, perhaps? Notwithstanding his extraordinary speeches in America, I believe that to some extent Maraton possesses it.
"There isn't a man breathing who hasn't his price, if you could only discover what it is," Lord Armley declared, as he took a cigarette from his case and lit it. "A truism, my friend," Mr. Foley admitted, "which I have always considered a little nebulous. However, we shall see. We have a few hours' respite, at any rate." Lady Grenside's hospitable instincts were unquenchable.
There is an appearance almost of precipitation in the haste with which Peace was bustled to his doom. After his committal he was taken to Wakefield Prison, and a few days later to Armley Jail, there to await his trial. This began on February 4, and lasted one day. Mr.
Armley here is wondering what the actual results will be if Sheffield, Leeds, and Manchester stand together, and the railway strike comes at the same time." "I do not know that I wonder at all," Lord Armley declared. "The result will be ruin. "There is no such thing as permanent destruction," Maraton objected. "The springs of human life are never crushed.
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