And then the voice of Lord Benthorpe died away.
Mr Harbury joined in with a more definite remark:
“If anything the sum should be greater.”
He said it with the decision and simplicity common to men of his type when they discuss a great financial matter. They are in daily contact with these things, and they speak of them as you and I speak of a road with which we are familiar, or of any of the common actions of life. He continued:
“It should be greater, because the whole thing is a reserve for a very important campaign. Lord Benthorpe is right. In theory there is nothing needed; in practice, very often the expenses are small. But one must have a perfectly free hand. One must know exactly what one is doing, and one must never be forced to hesitate from lack of funds.” He paused a moment, as though looking about him to find a convenient phrase which would not wound.
“A thing like this,” he went on, still firmly, “which is mainly political, may mean less expense than a scheme purely commercial, but it may also mean a sudden and unexpected strain.”
Then, as men do who are wiser than their fellows in the matter they discuss, he added an abrupt example:
“Do you remember the Thibet irrigation loan?”
Lord Benthorpe looked at him and nodded, more from courtesy than from any other motive, for, as a fact, he had never heard of it.
“I remember it too,” said Mr Harbury grimly, “and that came of what I call starving.”