"Let my train go," Mannering answered. "There are some things I have to say to you."
Borrowdean called a hansom. The two men drove off together.
CHAPTER VIII
THE MANNERING MYSTERY
Borrowdean was curter than usual, even abrupt. The calm geniality of his manner had departed. He spoke in short, terse sentences, and he had the air of a man struggling to subdue a fit of perfectly reasonable and justifiable anger. It was a carefully cultivated pose. He even refrained from his customary cigarette.
"Look here, Mannering," he said, "there are times when a few plain words are worth an hour's conversation. Will you have them from me?"
"Yes!"
"This thing was started six months ago, soon after those two bye-elections in Yorkshire. Even the most despondent of us then saw that the Government could scarcely last its time. We had a meeting and we attempted to form on paper a trial cabinet. You know our weakness. We have to try to form a National party out of a number of men who, although they call themselves broadly Liberals, are as far apart as the very poles of thought. It was as much as they could do to sit in the same room together. From the opening of the meeting until its close, there was but one subject upon which every one was unanimous. That was the absolute necessity of getting you to come back to our aid."
"You flatter me," Mannering said, with fine irony.