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The Man Who Knew Too Much | Gilbert K. Chesterton | |
VII. The Temple Of Silence |
Page 3 of 17 |
"We jolly well have to thank him for putting some new life into the old party," Ashton Fisher was saying. "This campaign against the old squires just hits the degree of democracy there is in this county. This act for extending county council control is practically his bill; so you may say he's in the government even before he's in the House." "One's easier than the other," said Harry, carelessly. "I bet the squire's a bigger pot than the county council in that county. Verner is pretty well rooted; all these rural places are what you call reactionary. Damning aristocrats won't alter it." "He damns them rather well," observed Ashton. "We never had a better meeting than the one in Barkington, which generally goes Constitutional. And when he said, 'Sir Francis may boast of blue blood; let us show we have red blood,' and went on to talk about manhood and liberty, the room simply rose at him." "Speaks very well," said Lord Saltoun, gruffly, making his only contribution to the conversation so far. Then the almost equally silent Horne Fisher suddenly spoke, without, taking his brooding eyes off the fire. "What I can't understand," he said, "is why nobody is ever slanged for the real reason." "Hullo!" remarked Harry, humorously, "you beginning to take notice?" |
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The Man Who Knew Too Much Gilbert K. Chesterton |
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