entered. He held in one hand a paper, in the other a candle. His face
was passive, but his eyes were burning.

"David--David is coming," he cried, in a voice that rang. "Does thee
hear, Faith? Davy is coming home!" A woman laughed exultantly. It was
not Faith. But still two years passed before David came.




CHAPTER XVIII

TIME, THE IDOL-BREAKER

Lord Windlehurst looked meditatively round the crowded and brilliant
salon. His host, the Foreign Minister, had gathered in the vast golden
chamber the most notable people of a most notable season, and in as
critical a period of the world's politics as had been known for a quarter
of a century. After a moment's survey, the ex-Prime-Minister turned to
answer the frank and caustic words addressed to him by the Duchess of
Snowdon concerning the Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs. Presently he
said:

"But there is method in his haste, dear lady. He is good at his
dangerous game. He plays high, he plunges; but, somehow, he makes it do.
I've been in Parliament a generation or so, and I've never known an
amateur more daring and skilful. I should have given him office had I
remained in power. Look at him, and tell me if he wouldn't have been
worth the backing."