Sir George's Love Affair
The great house stood out boldly against the wintry sky, and Dick Faversham could plainly see the window of the room where, years before, he had taken the pen to sign the paper which would have placed him in Count Romanoff's power. Like lightning his mind flashed back to the fateful hour. He saw himself holding the pen, saw the words which Romanoff had written standing clearly out on the white surface, saw himself trying to trace the letters of his name, and then he felt the hand on his wrist. It was only a light touch, but he no longer had the power to write.
Was it a moral impulse which had come to him, or was it some force which paralysed his senses, and made him incapable of holding the pen? It seemed to be both. He remembered having a loathing for the thing Romanoff wanted him to do. Even then he felt like shuddering at the dark influences which sapped his will-power, and made wrong seem like right. But there was more than that. Some force outside himself kept him from writing.
And he was glad. True, he was a poor man, and instead of owning the stately mansion before him, he would presently return to his tiny flat, where he would have to calculate about every sixpence he spent. But he was free; he was master of his soul. He was a man of some importance too. He was the Labour Member for Eastroyd; he had secured the confidence of many thousands of working people, and his voice was listened to with much respect by Labour leaders, and in Labour conferences.
But he was not quite satisfied. He did not want to be the representative of one class only, but of all classes. He remembered that he had been lately spoken of as being "too mealy-mouthed," and as "having too much sympathy with the employers."
"A voting machine at four hundred a year!"
Romanoff's words still stung him, wounded him. He longed for a larger life, longed to speak for all classes, longed to mingle with those of his own upbringing and education.
"What are you thinking of?"
For the moment he had forgotten the girl at his side, almost forgotten the subject they had been discussing.
"Of many things," he replied.