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"As much as to say," remarked the other to Lilian, "that he would see them all consumed in furnaces before he stretched forth a hand to save them." "I know very well how to understand Denzil's exaggerations," said Lilian, with a smile to her guest. "He thinks," was Glazzard's reply, "that I am something worse than a high Tory. It's quite a mistake, and I don't know how his belief originated."

"He has hardly progressed with the times," assented Glazzard. Lilian was listening so attentively that she forgot her dinner. "I didn't think you cared so much about politics," she remarked, gravely. "Oh, it comes out now and then. I suppose Glazzard's aesthetic neutrality stirs me up." "I am neither aesthetic nor neutral," remarked the guest, as if casually. Denzil laughed.

"It doesn't astonish you?" said Quarrier, with a broad grin. "Not overpoweringly." "Then let us regard the thing as settled. Mr. Liversedge has no stomach for the fight, and makes room for me. In a week's time I shall be a man of distinction." In the midst of his self-banter he found Glazzard's gaze turned upon him with steady concentration. Their eyes met, and Denzil's expression became graver.

But we have to do with monstrous social tyrannies. Lilian can no longer live in hiding. She must have a full and enjoyable life." "Yes. But is it possible for her, under these conditions?" "I think so. I have still to speak to her, but I know she will see things as I do." A very faint smile flitted over Glazzard's lips. "Good! And you don't fear discovery by what's his name Northway?"

Mumbray thereupon began to encourage the slow advances of her Rector, who thought of Serena's fortune as a means to the wider activity, the greater distinction, for which he was hungering. Glazzard's self-contempt as he went home this evening was not unmingled with pleasanter thoughts. For a man in his position, Serena Mumbray and her thousands did not represent a future of despair.

Dinner dismissed, a bottle of whisky on the table, a kettle steaming by the fire, Denzil's pipe and Glazzard's cigar comfortably glowing, there came a long pause. "Well, I have a story to fell you," said Quarrier, at length. "So I supposed," murmured the other, without eagerness. "I don't know that I should have told it but for that chance encounter at Kew. But I'm not sorry.