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His answer was a long disquisition on the political
situation, to which she listened with the same faint smile with which she
had heard Dick himself; at last he roundly stigmatised the Crusade as a
visionary and impracticable scheme.
"I stuck to it as long as I could," he said, "but you wouldn't have me
risk everything for it?"
"Or even anything?" she asked.
The question was a spark to him. Gladly leaving the immediate question,
he dilated on all that the coming contest meant to him, how victory would
assure his prospects, how defeat might leave him hopelessly out in the
cold, how it would be absurd to lose all that he was going to accomplish
for the sake of a hasty promise and a cause that he had come to
disbelieve in. "When did you come to disbelieve in it?" was the question
in her heart; he saw it in her eyes.
"It's a little hard to have to explain everything in private as well as
in public," he complained. "And my head's fit to split."
"Don't trouble any more about it; only I thought I'd better tell you what
Dick said.


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