JANE.



CHAPTER VII

For some weeks after his chief's dinner party, Tallente slackened a
little in his grim devotion to work. A strangely quiescent period of
day-by-day political history enabled him to be absent from his place in
the House for several evenings during the week, and although he spent a
good many hours with Dartrey at Demos House, carefully discussing and
elaborating next season's programme, he still found himself with time to
spare, and with Jane's note buttoned up in his pocket, he deliberately
turned his face towards life in its more genial and human aspect.

He dined one night at the club to which he had belonged for many years,
a club frequented chiefly by distinguished literary men, successful
barristers, and a sprinkling of actors. His arrival created at first
almost a sensation, a slight feeling of constraint even, amongst the
little gathering of men drinking their apéritifs in the lounge under the
stairs. Somehow or other, there was a feeling that many of the old ties
had been broken. Tallente stood for new and menacing things in
politics. He had to a certain extent cut himself adrift from the world
which starts at Eton and Oxford and ends by making mild puns on the
judicial bench, or uttering sonorous platitudes from a properly
accredited seat in the House.

Tallente, fully appreciating the atmosphere, nevertheless made strenuous
and not unsuccessful efforts to pick up the old threads. He abandoned
even the moderation of his daily life. He drank cocktails, champagne