“By Jove! yes,” I said. “We'll have to house hunt.”
“I shall read all your speeches.”
She hesitated.
“I wish I was you,” she said, and said it as though it was not exactly the thing she was meaning to say.
“They want you to speak,” said Margaret, with something unsaid in her face.
“You must come out with me,” I answered, putting my arm through hers, and felt someone urging me to the French windows that gave on the balcony.
“If you think—” she said, yielding gladly
“Oh, RATHER!” said I.
The Mayor of Kinghamstead, a managing little man with no great belief in my oratorical powers, was sticking his face up to mine.
“It's all over,” he said, “and you've won. Say all the nice things you can and say them plainly.”