Tallente. He realised, however, that in the opposite camp no man could
be more dangerous.

"This thing seems to me really terrible, Tallente," he protested
gravely. "After all, however much we may ignore it, there is what we
might call a clannishness amongst Englishmen of a certain order which
has helped this country through many troubles. You are going to leave
behind entirely the companionship of your class. You are going to cast
in your lot with the riffraff of politics, the mealy-mouthed anarchist
only biding his time, the blatant Bolshevist talking of compromise with
his tongue in his cheek, the tub-thumper out to confiscate every one's
wealth and start a public house. You won't know yourself in this
gallery."

Tallente shook his head.

"These people," he admitted, "are full of their extravagances, although
I think that the types you mention are as extinct as the dodo, but I
will admit their extravagances, only to pass on to tell you this. I
claim for them that they are the only political party, even with their
strange conglomeration of material, which possesses the least spark of
spirituality. I think, and their programme proves it, that they are
trying to look beyond the crying needs of the moment, trying to frame
laws which will be lasting and just without pandering to capital or
factions of any sort. I think that when their time comes, they will try
at least to govern this country from the loftiest possible standard."

The Prime Minister completed his walk, the enjoyment of which Tallente
had entirely spoilt. He held out his hand a little pettishly.