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Updated: September 8, 2025
"Half the people in the country would be starving; there'd be no subscriptions to the Unions; the blooming Germans would be over here in no time, and we should lose our jobs." "It wouldn't do, Mr. Maraton," Borden said briskly. "It's our job to improve the position of our constituents, but it's jolly certain we shouldn't do that by bringing ruin upon the country."
It is my belief that the sufferings and the loss which would ensue would not fall upon the class who are already dwelling in misery." Mr. Foley moved nervously to the mantelpiece and helped himself to a cigarette. "Mr. Maraton," he said, "we will not argue on these lines. I like to feel my feet upon the earth. I like to deal with the things one knows about.
One thing is certainly written that if Maraton here stands by my side for the next seven years, Labour will have thrown off one, at least, of the shackles that bind her. Isn't it better to release her slowly and gradually, than to destroy her altogether by trying more violent means?" "Ah, who knows!" Selingman remarked enigmatically. "Who knows! . . . And what of the rest of the evening?
It agrees with me," he went on. "You see, I have learnt the art of being satisfied with myself. I know what I am. I am content. That is where you, my friend Maraton, need to grow a little older. Oh, you are great enough, great enough if you only knew it! Even Maxendorf admits that, and he told me frankly he's disappointed in you. Don't sit there like a dumb figure any longer.
"What food we've got is all locked up. You can get something between eight and nine. We close the hotel doors then." "They tell me I can select any room I like upstairs that isn't occupied," Maraton remarked. The porter nodded. "Nearly all the servants have gone," he explained, "so they can't try to run the hotel. Gone out to find food somewhere. They couldn't feed them here."
"It is to threaten me that you have come?" Maxendorf asked quietly. "Don't put it like that," Maraton replied. "These are just the words which you yourself cannot fail to understand. Neither you nor I hold life so dearly that the thought of losing it need make us quaver.
Say it, then, and remember that hereafter, the less communication between you and me the better." Maraton ignored the chair. He stood a little way inside the room. Through the partially opened window came the ceaseless roar of traffic from the busy street below. "Maxendorf," he began, "there isn't much to be said. You know Selingman has told you what my decision is.
I would like to see them with a spade! Have you been trying to get at their brains, Maraton? What's that to make a man like you depressed? Did you think they had any? Did you think you could draw a single spark of fire out of dull pap like that? Bah!" Julia was moving quietly about the room, putting the flowers in water. Aaron had slipped in and was seated before his desk.
The butler, however, shook his head when asked if Mr. Foley was at home. "Mr. Foley is at the War Office, sir," he announced. "We cannot tell what time to expect him." "I shall wait," Maraton replied. "My business is of urgent importance." The butler made no difficulty.
It's something that will last, too! Their womenkind have laid hold of it. When they start life again, they mean to start on a different plane." "How are the accounts lasting out?" Maraton asked. Ernshaw produced some books from his pocket and they sat down at the table. "We're not so badly off for money," he declared. "It's the purchasing power of it that's making things difficult.
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