“Rack-renting landlords,” I said. “Sweating capitalists, and clergymen whose churches are empty because their congregations are tired of hearing them curse the Pope!”
“Eh?” said Clithering, “what’s that? what’s that?”
“Only a quotation,” I said. “I forget if it was a Cabinet Minister—”
“Not at all,” said Clithering. “I recollect the words now. It was one of the Irish Members. No Cabinet Minister would dream of saying such things. We have a high sense of the importance of the Ulster problem. Nothing, I assure you, is further from our minds than the desire to minimize or treat with undue flippancy the conscientious objections, even the somewhat unreasonable fears of men whom we recognize as—”
Clithering paused. I had not anything particular to say, so I waited for him to begin again.
“I understand,” he said, “that a meeting of the Unionist Defence Committee is to be held this afternoon.”
“Yes,” I said. “I’m going to it. I’m not really a member of the committee, at least I wasn’t until yesterday; but—”
“I quite understand, quite understand. In fact—speaking now in the strictest confidence—I may say that the suggestion to add your name to the committee was made—well it was made to Lady Moyne by a very important person. It was generally recognized that a man of your well-known moderation—”
I was beginning to dislike being called a man of moderation nearly as much as I disliked being called a Liberal.
“What do you want me to do?” I asked.