“By the way, Brand, what do you know of a man called Phillips? He seems to have mentioned your name.”
“He was my secretary,” said Oliver slowly. “What about him?”
“I think he must be mad. He has given himself up to a magistrate, entreating to be examined at once. The magistrate has applied for instructions. You see, the Act has scarcely begun to move yet.”
“But what has he done?”
“That’s the difficulty. He says he cannot deny God, neither can he affirm Him.—He was your secretary, then?”
“Certainly. I knew he was inclined to Christianity. I had to get rid of him for that.”
“Well, he is to be remanded for a week. Perhaps he will be able to make up his mind.”
Then the talk shifted off again. Two or three more came up, and all eyed Oliver with a certain curiosity; the story was gone about that his wife had left him. They wished to see how he took it.
At five minutes before the hour a bell rang, and the door into the corridor was thrown open.
“Come, gentlemen,” said the Prime Minister.