Cantelupe. Lucifer, son of the morning! Why is it always the highest who fall?
Horsham shies fastidiously at this touch of poetry.
Horsham. No, my dear Charles, let us above all things keep our mental balance. Trebell is a most capable fellow. I'd set my heart on having him with me ... he'll be most awkward to deal with in opposition. But we shall survive his loss and so would the country.
Cantelupe. [Desperately.] Cyril, promise me there shall be no compromise over this measure.
Horsham. [Charmingly candid.] No ... no unnecessary compromise, I promise you.
Cantelupe. [With a sigh.] If we had done what we have done to-night in the right spirit! Blackborough was almost vindictive.
Horsham. [Smiling without amusement.] Didn't you keep thinking ... I did ... of that affair of his with Mrs. Parkington ... years ago?
Cantelupe. There was never any proof of it.
Horsham. No ... he bought off the husband.
Cantelupe. [Uneasily.] His objections to Trebell were—political.