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Updated: June 7, 2025
Tallente looked idly through the rain-streaming window at the block of traffic, the hurrying passers-by, the cheerful warmth of the shops and restaurants. "You take life too seriously, Tallente," his companion said, a little abruptly. "Do I?" Tallente answered, with a thin smile. "You do indeed. Look at me.
Tallente shrugged his shoulders. "We must see this through, Robert," he said. "We were in a tighter corner at Ypres, remember. Keep as quiet as you can. Now, then." Tallente flashed on his own torch. "Who's there?" he asked sternly. There was no answer. The torch for a moment remained stationary, then it began again to advance. "What are you doing in my grounds?" Tallente demanded. "Who are you?"
You yourself have come here full of bitterness, Andrew Tallente, because it seemed to you that there was no place for you amongst the prophets of democracy. It was you yourself, in a moment of passion, perhaps, who said that democracy, as typified in existing political parties, was soulless. You were right. Hasn't Mr. Dartrey just told you so and doesn't that make our task the clearer?
"You have no idea what a mess he was liable to make of things if he was left alone." The inspector coughed. "Mr. Tallente, sir," he said, "my instructions are to ask you to disclose the nature of your displeasure, if any, with the Honourable Mr. Anthony Palliser. In plain words, Scotland Yard desires to know why he was turned away from his place at a moment's notice."
By the by, how long are we going to stay down here?" "We will discuss that presently," he answered. The service of dinner came to its appointed end. Tallente drank one glass of port alone. Then he rose, left the room by the French windows, passed along the terrace and looked in at the drawing-room, where Stella was lingering over her coffee.
Upon my soul, Dartrey, he makes me feel like a republican of the bloodthirsty age, he's so blasted superior!" "You're going back to the smaller outlook, Miller," his chief expostulated. "These personal prejudices should be entirely negligible. I am perfectly certain that Tallente himself would lay no stress upon them." "Stress upon them? Damn it, I'm as good as he is!" Miller exclaimed irritably.
One would think that he had some other ambition." Nora sighed. She looked across at her visitor a little diffidently. "I can help you to understand Andrew Tallente," she declared. "His condition is the greatest of all tributes to my sex. He has had an unhappy married life. From forty to fifty he has borne it philosophically as a man may. Now the reaction has come.
Jane saw his momentary look of consternation, but was powerless to send him even an answering message of sympathy. She held out her hand and welcomed him with a smile. "This is perfectly charming of you, Mr. Tallente," she said. "I know how busy you must be in the afternoons, but I am afraid I am old-fashioned enough to like my men friends to sometimes forget even the affairs of the nation.
He could deal adequately with any one problem presented by itself and affected only by local conditions, yet the more Tallente talked with him, the more he realised his lack of breadth, his curious weakness of judgment when called upon to consider questions dependent upon varying considerations.
I did it to please the moderates and you know how they've turned out. There isn't one of them worth a row of pins. If any one ever writes my political biography, they will probably decide that the parting with you was the greatest of my blunders." He rose to his feet, swinging the key upon his finger. "One more word, Tallente," he added.
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