'Of course I do.' He smiled into her eyes.
That moth Farnborough, whirling in the political effulgence, was again hovering on the outskirts. He even made conversation to Mrs. Heriot, as an excuse to remain inside the window.
'But you don't mean seriously,' Lord John asked his guest, 'you don't mean, do you, that there's any possible complication about your seat?'
'Oh, I dare say it's all right'—Stonor drew a Sunday paper out of his pocket. 'There's this agitation about the Woman Question. Oddly enough, it seems as if it might—there's just the off-chance—it might affect the issue.'
'Affect it? How? God bless my soul!' Lord John's transparent skin flushed up to his white hair. 'Don't tell me any responsible person is going even to consider the lunacy of tampering with the British Constitution——'
'We have heard that suggested, though for better reasons,' Stonor laughed, but not Lord John.
'Turn over the destinies of the Empire,' he said hotly, 'to a lot of ignorant women just because a few of 'em have odious manners and violent tongues!' The sight of Stonor's cool impassivity calmed him somewhat. He went on more temperately. 'Every sane person sees that the only trouble with England to-day is that too many ignorant people have votes already.'
'The penalty we pay for being more republican than the Republics.'
Lord John had picked up the Sunday paper and glanced down a column.
'If the worst came to the worst, you can do what the other four hundred have done.'