"It would be a little quicker, perhaps, but not a bit more
sure."
And again they washed their hands of the whole affair very solemnly.
CHAPTER XIX.
DEATH DEFIED.
Constantine Blair, no less active and soon little less serene in
opposition than in power, felt himself more than justified in all that he
had ever said about Weston Marchmont when he received an intimation of
Marchmont's intention to apply for the Chiltern Hundreds. Yet he was
aghast at this voluntary retirement into the wilderness of private life,
a life without bustle, without gossip, without that sense of being
intimate with the march of affairs and behind the scenes of the national
theatre. There were reasons assigned, of course. One was that Marchmont
found himself ("I'll bet he does!" groaned Constantine with anticipatory
resignation) more in agreement with the other side than with his own on
an important question of foreign politics then to the front. But this
state of matters had ceased to be unusual with him and hardly in itself
accounted for the step he was now taking.
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