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All that he says" jerking his elbow towards Maraton "sounds good enough. That'll come in later. Are you for the strike?" There was no doubt about the reply a roar of approving voices. Maraton smiled at them and stepped down from the platform. For the moment he was forgotten. Only Julia whispered passionately in his ear as they moved out of the place. "You should have gone on.
"Pledge your word," Maraton proceeded deliberately, "pledge me your word that next Session you will nationalise the railways on the basis of three per cent for capital, a minimum wage of two pounds ten, a maximum salary of eight hundred pounds, contracts to be pro rata if profits are not earned. Pledge me that, and the railway strike is over." "It's Socialism," Elisabeth gasped.
I'll meet you out of work to-morrow, if I can. We shall have had a talk with Mr. Maraton by that time!" She left him with a smile upon her lips. His absence seemed like an immense, a wonderful relief. Once more her thoughts were free. But were they free, after all, these thoughts of hers?
"We are busy here, and so many of the girls are away down with the heat, I suppose. Thank you for coming, Aaron." "I would like," he answered, "to walk the streets of London one by one, and stand at the corners and shout to the passers-by that Maraton has come. Only I wonder if they would understand. I wonder!" He passed out into the street and the girl returned to her work.
All his consultations with Mr. Foley, and they had been many, had taken place at the House of Commons. He had refused endless invitations of a social character, and even when Mr. Foley had told him in plain words that his niece was anxious to see him, Maraton had postponed his call. This luncheon party, however, was inevitable.
They don't want to give their wives and children, and their own selves, body and soul, for a dream. Therefore, I come back to the sane common sense of the whole affair. By this time next year, if you use your power to bring destruction upon this country, your name will be loathed and detested amongst the very people for whose sake you do it." Maraton turned away.
"The streets are full of people," she said quietly. "Their eyes are all turned here. Poor people!" Maraton crossed the room and stood by her side. He spoke very gently. He even took her hand, which lay like a lump of ice in his. "Julia," he whispered, "you lose hope and trust too soon." "You have spoken of doubts," she answered, in a low tone. "The prophet has no doubts."
Maraton shook his head. "I have finished," he declared. "There will be no division." "But do you never speak there?" "Up to now I have not uttered more than a dozen words or so," Maraton replied. "You try it yourself try speaking to a crowd of well-dressed, well-fed, smug units of respectability, each with his mind full of his own affairs or the affairs of his constituency. You try it.
We'd fix a salary no need to be mean about it and get to work as soon as this affair's over. And meanwhile, while this strike's on, Mr. Maraton might address a few meetings in other centres on behalf of these fellows, and rope in some coin. There are one or two matters we shall have to have an understanding about, however, and one as had better be cleared up right now. I'll ask you, Mr.
Foley was in his best and happiest mood. He shook hands heartily with Maraton. Elisabeth said nothing at all, but Maraton was conscious of one swift look into his eyes, and of the fact that her fingers rested in his several seconds longer than was necessary. "We are profoundly mortified, both my niece and I," Mr. Foley said.
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