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Updated: May 20, 2025
Cobbens reflected that the mayor's companion might well be a respectable girl, perhaps his fiancée. Now he was quick to see his trespass and to mend his manner. "Why, of course," he assented graciously. "Don't let us hurry you. The fact is, we all came in here before we noticed the room was occupied, to leave our wraps. Quaint old place, isn't it?
As superior as he knew himself to be to that little Cobbens, or to the bland and elephantine husband of Mrs. Parr. No words now passed between them, but in the other room the chatter continued, though in a more subdued key.
All three men saw the signal and accepted it. Littleford's brow clouded slightly at sight of Leigh, and his greeting of the young man was a shade less cordial than his greeting of the other two. There were three men and two chairs, which was awkward, and he was expecting only Swigart and Cobbens.
"It's a mistaken kindness. His fall will be all the greater for your whim." "Sometimes beggars get on horseback," she retorted coolly, "and then they keep on riding." Leigh's knowledge of the lawyer's career enabled him to appreciate the sharpness of this remark, but Cobbens was more adroit than he could have thought possible in the face of such a taunt.
The impression that further words had passed between them was so disquieting, in view of his suspicion of Emmet's audacity, that he was fain to believe himself mistaken. It seemed that Cobbens also had lost nothing of this incident, for when she returned, he regarded her with as much disapproval as he dared to show. "You 'll turn the poor beggar's head, Miss Wycliffe," he said.
"Yes, sir," the waiter answered in reply to his question, "there's a party due here at six-thirty from Warwick. Mr. Cobbens is bringing 'em out." "Then hurry up," Emmet commanded. "Bring us something hot, and be quick about it." The man did not know him; there was consolation in that. But Emmet realised the necessity of getting away before the party should arrive.
Had the mayor been allowed to speak, he would doubtless have scored a hit, but Cobbens had succeeded in reducing him to a mere pawn. The people had thrust him forward on the board; Cobbens had neatly lifted him off and usurped his square. The mayor's position had been far from heroic, battered between contending forces and finally rescued by the President's strong arm.
Leigh, I shall take it as a hint to go home at once." "And it's time we did," Cobbens put in. "We 're much obliged to you, sir. We 've had a charming time, and owe you a vote of thanks." When Leigh had lighted them downstairs, he ascended once more to his cabin, tortured by an acute self-consciousness.
Could he have overheard the conversation which took place between Cobbens and Miss Wycliffe on their way home, his distress would have been in no way lightened. The lawyer allowed the machine to run more slowly, that its jar and noise might not drown his voice. "Your friend with the comet-coloured hair," he began, "will never fit into the life of St. George's Hall.
The scene Cardington had anticipated was about to be enacted. Upon Cobbens, as the mouthpiece of the committee, the fury of the people now turned itself, a fury no less intense because restrained to some extent by the presence of the President. Perhaps the unfortunate spokesman had thought that this presence would save him entirely, for his reception seemed to turn him to stone.
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