'Well, they've had their tramp for nothing. That's all the news I've got for them, and much good may it do them.'
'Well, well, sir,' said Clayton, 'we didn't mean no harm. I'll tell 'em what you say. Good-night, sir!'
'Good-night, Clayton!' Roland spoke a little more gently. 'I'm sorry I can do nothing for you.'
The deputation turned to go. Litvinoff walked across the room and shook hands with each man as he passed out of the door.
'Good-night, my friends!' he said. 'Keep your tempers. This unfortunate business is no one's fault. It's the fault of the system we all live under.'
The door closed upon the last man. Roland turned angrily on his guest.
'I can't imagine,' he said, with asperity, 'how a man who is so sensible about most things can take the part of these unreasonable idiots!'
'My dear Ferrier,' relighting the cigar which had gone out in the excitement of the moment, 'of course I've the very greatest sympathy with you in this painful business, and I know how little it is your fault, but now, as always, I'm on the side of the workers, and you know I never disguise my views.'
'So it appears,' Roland was beginning, when the murmur of voices outside gave place to a single voice—that of one of the deputies, who seemed to be speaking to the men. Ferrier and his guest could hear the shuffling of many feet on the gravel as the men crowded round the speaker. When he stopped there was a tumult of hissing and yelling and groaning—a noise as of a very Pandemonium let loose.
Roland turned to Litvinoff.