"
Should she say that he would not tell anything to the House of Commons
for many days, probably not ever, that his voice would not be heard
there? They would not believe her, she hardly would believe herself. In
that hour illness and retirement seemed dim and distant, unreal and a
little ludicrous. She abandoned herself to the temptation pressed upon
her and talked as though her husband were to lead all through the
campaign that he had opened.
"I never saw him looking better in my life," said Foster.
As he spoke a short thick-set man with grey hair pushed by him. Old
Foster caught him by the wrist, crying with a laugh, "Why, Doctor, what
are you doing here? You're one of the enemy!"
"I came to hear the speech."
"A good'un, eh?"
"Never mind the speech. Take me over to Mr. Quisante--now, directly."
"What for?"
"He must go home."
"Go home? Nonsense. He's all right."
Dr. Tillman wrenched his hand away, shook his head scornfully, and
started across the room toward where Quisante was. May laid her hand on
old Foster's arm.
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