“Thank God!” said Moyne, fervently. “How did you manage it?”
“I can’t take any credit for the arrangement,” I said. “Lady Moyne and Babberly had it all cut and dried before they consulted me at all.”
“What are they going to do?”
“Well, in the first place they’ve got Malcolmson and the rest of that lot to stop calling the thing a Review. It’s to be officially known for the future as a March Past.”
“Who is to march past what?” said Moyne.
“I forgot to ask that,” I said, “but I rather fancy the audience is to march past you.”
“I don’t see,” said Moyne, “that there’s much difference between calling it a March Past and calling it a Review. They’re both military terms; and what I object to is being associated with—”
“Lady Moyne seemed to think,” I said, “that it made all the difference in the world; and that the Government would grasp at the olive branch.”
“I suppose it will be all right,” said Moyne doubtfully.
“The next part of the plan,” I said, “is that I am to be on the platform.”