Blackborough. No, I tell you, I'm damned if he can. Leaving the whole high church party to blackmail all they can out of us and vote how they like! Here ... I've got my Yorkshire people to think of. I can bargain for them with you in a cabinet ... not if you've the pull of being out of it.
Horsham. [With charming insinuation.] And have you calculated, Blackborough, what may become of us if Trebell has the pull of being out of it?
Blackborough makes a face.
Blackborough. Yes ... I suppose he might turn nasty.
Farrant. I should hope he would.
Blackborough.[Tackling Farrant with great ease.] I should hope he would consider the matter not from the personal, but from the political point of view ... as I am trying to do.
Horsham. [Tasting his epigram with enjoyment.] Introspection is the only bar to such an honourable endeavour, [Blackborough gapes.] You don't suffer from that as—for instance—Charles here, does.
Blackborough. [Pugnaciously.] D'you mean I'm just pretending not to attack him personally?
Horsham. [Safe on his own ground.] It's only a curious metaphysical point. Have you never noticed your distaste for the colour of a man's hair translate itself ultimately into an objection to his religious opinions ... or what not? I am sure—for instance—I could trace Charles's scruples about sitting in a cabinet with Trebell back to a sort of academic reverence for women generally which he possesses. I am sure I could ... if he were not probably now doing it himself. But this does not make the scruples less real, less religious, or less political. We must be humanly biased in expression ... or not express ourselves.
Blackborough. [Whose thoughts have wandered.] The man's less of a danger than he was ... I mean he'll be alone. The Liberals won't have him back. He smashed his following there to come over to us.