together whilst he searched the cupboard for something.

"Eh, what?" he said. "It _is_ pretty _strong_, isn't it? Ought to shake
out some of the supporters, eh? Bill comes on to-morrow ... do for that,
I should think." He wanted a corkscrew very badly.

But that was precisely it--it would "shake out some of the supporters,"
and give Gurnard his patent excuse. Churchill, I knew, would stick to
his line, the saner policy. But so many of the men who had stuck to
Churchill would fall away now, and Gurnard, of course, would lead them
to his own triumph.

It was a criminal verdict. Callan had gone out as a commissioner--with a
good deal of drum-beating. And this was his report, this shriek. If it
sounded across the house-tops--if I let it--good-by to the saner policy
and to Churchill. It did not make any difference that Churchill's _was_
the saner policy, because there was no one in the nation sane enough to
see it. They wanted purity in high places, and here was a definite,
criminal indictment against de Mersch. And de Mersch would--in a manner
of speaking, have to be lynched, policy or no policy.

She wanted this, and in all the earth she was the only desirable thing.
If I thwarted her--she would ... what would she do now? I looked at
Soane.

"What would happen if I stopped the presses?" I asked. Soane was
twisting his corkscrew in the wire of the champagne bottle.

It was fatal; I could see nothing on earth but her. What else was there
in the world. Wine? The light of the sun? The wind on the heath? Honour!