He made his favourite motion of defiance with his shoulders, one of the gestures which had won him the reputation of being a brave man.
'They might answer you,' replied Sangiorgio in an equivocal tone.
'Oh no! they would not answer at all! More likely they would make a note of it, and remind me of it at a future time, in the hall, in a lobby, or in a newspaper. That's the way in politics. Or probably they would try to forget to do even that, as so many others have forgotten. You seem to be new here; you have a great deal left to learn. One thing, my dear sir, I can inform you of myself: in politics one must never reply immediately, to a man's face, directly. Either one forgets or one waits.'
'And supposing you should get an immediate answer?' rejoined Sangiorgio more glacially than ever.
'What! Imagine, my dear new deputy, that for five years in these precincts I have gone about saying the whole truth to everybody concerning facts, men, and events, at the top of my voice, merely to relieve my liver. Has anyone had the courage to defend himself, to answer me to my face? No one has—no one, my dear new deputy!'
'And how is that?' said Sangiorgio, his eyes rooted to the paper he had been writing upon, as if in reflection.
'Come, now! It is because the old ones have exhausted their whole supply of courage—if they ever had any—and the young ones have not yet begun to draw on theirs—if they ever do have any.'
'Do you think so, Oldofredi?'
'Great heavens! Do I think so! The Chamber is full of cowards!'