"
"Wait till you've heard me to-morrow night," he whispered, pressing her
hand and looking into her eyes with the glee of anticipated triumph.
He was going to make a great speech, she knew that very well; there were
all the signs about him, the glee, the pride, the occasional absence of
mind, the frequent appeal for sympathy, the need of a confidence to
answer and confirm his own. Such a mood, in spite of its element of
childishness, was yet a good one with him. It raised him above pettiness
and made him impatient of old Foster's cunning little devices for
capturing an enemy or confirming the allegiance of a doubtful friend. He
had for the time forgotten himself in his work, the position in what he
meant to do with it; he would have delivered that speech now if the price
had been the loss of his seat; whatever the price was, that speech now
would have its way, all of it, whole and unimpaired, even the passage on
which Foster was consulted with the result that its suppression was
declared imperative in view of Japhet Williams' feelings.
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