you--just the trio of us who came to lure you out of your Devonshire
paradise."

"Miller?" Tallente repeated, with instant comprehension.

"Yes! I was thinking, only the other day, that you scarcely see enough
of Miller."

"I see all that I want to," was Tallente's candid comment.

Dartrey laid his hand upon his guest's shoulder. In his sombre dinner
garb, with low, turned-down collar and flowing black tie, his grey-black
beard cut to a point, his high forehead, his straightly brushed-back
hair, which still betrayed its tendency to natural curls, he looked a
great deal more like an artist of the dreamy and aesthetic type than a
man who had elaborated a new system of life and government.

"It is because of the feeling behind those words, Tallente," he said,
"that I have asked you to meet him here to-night. Miller has his
objectionable points, but he possesses still a great hold upon certain
types of the working man. I feel that you should appreciate that a
little more thoroughly. The politician, as you should know better than
I, has no personal feelings."

"The politician is left with very few luxuries," Tallente replied, with
a certain grimness.

Nora was announced, brilliant and gracious in a new dinner gown which
she frankly confessed had ruined her, and close behind her Miller, a
little ungainly in his overlong dress coat and badly arranged white tie.