"I will not forget," he promised. "We are to be partners, you know."
He was on the point of sitting down when he saw Brooks at the next table. He held out his hand.
"How do you do, Mr. Brooks?" he said. "I am glad to see that you are going to get your man in.
"Thank you," Brooks answered, rising and waiting for his companion, who was buttoning her gloves. "I was afraid that your sympathies would be on the other side."
"Dear me, no," the Marquis answered. "My enemies would tell you that I have neither sympathy nor politics, but I assure you that at heart I am a most devout Radical. I have a vote, too, and you may count upon me.
"I am very glad to hear it," Brooks answered. "Shall I put you down on the list 'to be fetched'?"
The Marquis laughed.
"I'll come without," he declared. "I promise. Just remind me of the day."
He glanced towards Mary Scott, and for a moment seemed about to include her in some forthcoming remark. But whatever it might have been—it was never made. She kept her eyes averted, and though her self-possession was absolutely unruffled she hastened her departure. "I am not hurrying you, Mr. Brooks?" she asked. "Not in the least," he assured her.
He raised his hat to the Marquis and his party, and the former nodded good-humouredly. There was silence until the two were in the street. Then one of the men who had been looking after them dropped his eye-glass.