Winnington himself was quite cool; there were no signs whatever of any intention to renew their Friday's conversation. His manner and tone were just as usual. Some business at the Home Office, connected with his County Council work, called him to town. He should be staying at his Club in St. James's St. Alice Matheson also would be in town.
"Shall we join for a theatre, one night?" he asked her.
She felt suddenly angered. Was she never to be believed, never to be taken seriously?
"To-morrow, Mr. Mark, is the meeting of Parliament."
"That I am aware of."
"The day after, I shall probably be in prison!"
She fronted him bravely, though, as he saw, with an effort. He paused a moment, but showed no astonishment.
"I hope not. I think not," he said, quietly.
Delia took up the evening paper she had just bought at the station, opened it, and looked at the middle page.
"There are our plans," she said, defiantly, handing it to him.