"To stand for Parliament, I mean," I hastily explained to them. "It seems really rather a good opportunity—as, of course, I am fairly well known in the district, and the majority against us was only seventy or eighty at the last election."
"Say, that's interesting!" Mr. Bundercombe declared, putting down his hat,
"I didn't know you were by way of being a professional man, though."
"I'm not," I replied. "You wouldn't call politics a profession exactly."
Mr. Bundercombe was more puzzled than ever. His hand caressed his chin in familiar fashion.
"Well, it's one way of making a living, isn't it?" he asked. "We call it a profession on our side."
"It isn't a way of making a living at all!" I assured him. "It costs one a great deal more than can be made out of it."
Mr. Bundercombe stopped scratching his chin.
Mrs. Bundercombe sat down opposite me and I was perfectly certain that she would presently have a few remarks to offer. Eve was looking delightfully interested.
"Say, I'm not quite sure I follow you," Mr. Bundercombe observed. "I am with you all right when you say that the direct pecuniary payment for being in Parliament doesn't amount to anything; but what's your pull worth, eh?"
"My what?" I inquired.