“I’ll question you,” retorted Lindsay heatedly, “if you can’t leave off interruptin’. I appeal to the Midland men present, and I ask whether they’re going to allow themselves to be sat upon?”
“You’ll be jumped on if you don’t look out,” said Spanswick. The room began to take sides.
“You do it,” shouted the other, goaded. “You do it, that’s all! Try it on! Have a dash at it, my friend, and see what ’appens. You talk a lot, but I vurry much doubt whether you can do anything else.”
Payne in the chair made his hammer heard above the din of contending voices, and then, standing up, shook the hammer threateningly. If they did not at once stop their row, said Payne, he, as Chairman, would have to consider the advisability of jolly well doing something; having given this vague threat Payne conferred with Erb in a whisper.
“Tell you what occurs to me,” said Payne, with a weak pretence of proclaiming an idea of his own. “Let’s hear what friend Lindsay has to say, and if there’s anything in it, why no doubt our friend the secretary will reply.”
“On a point of order—” said Spanswick, rising.
“I should like to point out—” began a Great Western man in the corner.
“Seems to me that the proper course to pursue—” said another.
The Chair hammered away noisily. A half-minute of strenuous tumult, and the noise subsided. Lindsay, of St. Pancras, rose, buttoning his jacket; this done he unbuttoned it again, continuing this eccentric action during the whole of his speech. He had some difficulty in finding words at first, but irritating comments from Spanswick served to encourage him, and he succeeded in recapitulating charges which it seemed had been made by certain members, now coy and reserved, against the secretary during the previous half-hour; these Lindsay emphasised by a suggestion that friend Barnes was using the society only for his own personal advancement (at this there was a shout of protest from most of the members that made Erb, his gaze fixed on the blank sheet of white foolscap before him, tingle with satisfaction). When having made his fiercest rush, Lindsay, of St. Pancras, showed signs of wavering, it was Spanswick who pricked him again into fury with a banderillo question to another neighbour: “But what was the real reason why the gel wouldn’t have him?” asked Spanswick.
Lindsay from St. Pancras, waving his arms excitedly, cried now in a scream that they were paying a princely salary to a man who thought he could twist the society round his little finger; who went about mixing with the nobs and getting his name into the papers; who lorded it over everybody, or tried to; who, to put it briefly, and to put it finally, was trying to push everybody else off the earth. Lindsay begged to move that the secretary, Herbert Barnes, be requested to hand in his resignation without delay.