"
"Oh, they're just as much in earnest some of the time,"
Lorne laughed, "but maybe not all the time!"
The sun shone crisply round them; there was a brisk
October market; on the other side of the road Elmore Crow
dangled his long legs over a cart flap and chewed a
cheroot. Elgin was abroad, doing business on its wide
margin of opportunity. Lorne cast a backward glance at
conditions he had seen.
"I know what you mean," he said. "Sharp of you to spot
it so soon, old chap! You're staying with the English
Church minister, aren't you--Mr Emmett? Some connection
of yours, aren't they?"
"Mrs Emmett is Chafe's sister--Mrs Chafe, you know, is
my aunt," Hesketh reminded him. "I say, Murchison, I left
old Chafe wilder than ever. Wallingham's committee keep
sending him leaflets and things. They take it for granted
he's on the right side, since his interests are. The
other day they asked him for a subscription! The old boy
sent his reply to the Daily News and carried it about
for a week. I think that gave him real satisfaction; but
he hates the things by post."
Lorne laughed delightedly. "I expect he's snowed under
with them. I sent him my own valuable views last week."
"I'm afraid they'll only stiffen him. That got to be his
great argument after you left, the fact that you fellows
over here want it.
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