Maraton only glanced at the paper and put it on one side. There was a
little constraint. One or two who had not known of his identity were
glancing curiously in his direction. Mr. Foley smiled at him
pleasantly.

"You may drink your port without fear, Mr. Maraton," he said. "We live
in civilised ages. A thousand years ago, you would certainly have had
some cause for suspicion!"

Maraton raised his glass to his lips and sipped the wine critically.

"I am afraid," he remarked, with a gleam in his eyes, "that there are a
good many of you who may be wishing that they could set back time a
thousand years!"

Mr. Foley shook his head.

"No," he decided, "to-day's principles are the best. We argue away what
is wrong in the minds of our enemies, and we take unto ourselves what
they bring us of good. If you would rather, Mr. Maraton, we will not
talk politics at all. On the other hand, the news to-night is serious.
Armley here is wondering what the actual results will be if Sheffield,
Leeds, and Manchester stand together, and the railway strike comes at
the same time."

"I do not know that I wonder at all," Lord Armley declared. "The result
will be ruin.

"There is no such thing as permanent destruction," Maraton objected.