“Fact of the matter is,” said Payne, in the chair, rather hurriedly—“good evening, Erb, you’re lateish—the fact of the matter is this is one of them very peculiar subjects where there’s something, no doubt, to be said on both sides. Let’s get on to the next business.”
Erb went to his chair by the side of Payne and took some papers from his pocket. He looked up and down the table nodding; his salutation was not in every case returned, and some of the men glared sternly at the advertisements; Spanswick waved his hand in the friendliest manner.
“There’s the matter,” said Payne, “the matter of starting a paper or a organ or something of a sim’lar nature. I call upon the secretary to make a statement.”
“I object,” said a voice.
“That you, Lindsay?”
“Yes, Mr. Chairman,” announced a hot-faced youth, rising from his seat, “it is me.”
“Sed down,” advised Spanswick audibly at his side. “Don’t make a silly young laughing-stock of yourself.”
This was sufficient for the fiery-faced Mr. Lindsay. He was from St. Pancras, and an engagement with a lady who kept a small laundry at Child’s Hill had recently been annulled at her particular request (a circumstance he had related in confidence to everybody), the Midland man having been driving about London for some days boiling up his thoughts, had decided that the world was managed on some erroneous system; it behoved him to put it right. Lindsay had come to the meeting with the vague desire to get satisfaction by opposing something; here in the discussion concerning Erb appeared a subject which exactly fitted his requirements.
“I should like to say a few brief words on the matter which we ’ave jest been discussing.”
“Question!” cried Spanswick.