Had he been married and had his wife felt for him that affection which his character would surely have called forth she would have been anxious to observe the change. But such is the strain of political life and such the ambitions it arouses, that his suffering passed unnoticed with the majority, and with the rest was a subject for secret congratulation.
He was down very early. Before he had eaten he went rapidly and nervously into his secretary’s room and said:
“Any news, Edward?”
“Yes,” said his secretary, looking if possible more nervous than his chief, “I’m sorry to say there is. The Herald is advertising an interview with Repton.”
“The Herald!” said the Prime Minister between his set teeth.
“Yes, the Herald,” answered the secretary, “it really doesn’t much matter,” he continued wearily, (he had been up most of the night) “if it wasn’t the Herald it would be somebody else.”
“We must pot ’em as they come,” answered the Premier grimly, “and the Herald won’t publish that interview at any rate.”
“Yes, let them publish it,” said the secretary.... “I’ll write it if you like.”
“That’s what I mean,” said the Prime Minister. “I mean they won’t publish what people think they will.”
“No,” said Evans, “they won’t.... He’s been shouting out of a window,” the secretary went on by way of news.