from the two windows. There was a davenport between them, and, opposite,
a cabinet with a looking-glass back in three arches. It was Mr.
Ransome's social distinction that he had inherited this walnut-wood
furniture. Modernity was represented by a brand-new overmantle in
stained wood and beveled glass, with little shelves displaying Japanese
vases. The wall paper turned this front parlor into a bower of gilt
roses (slightly tarnished on a grayish ground).

And as Mrs. Ransome sat at the head of the oval table in the center you
would never have known that she was the woman with red eyes, the
furtive, whispering woman who had opened the door to her son Randall
last night. She sat in a most correct and upright attitude, she looked
at John Randall and his wife, and smiled and flushed with gladness and
with pride. It took so little to make her glad and proud. She was glad
that Bessie was wearing the black and white which was so becoming to
her. She was glad that there was honey as well as jam for tea, and that
she had not cut the cake before they came. She was proud of her teapot,
and of the appearance of her room. She was proud of Mr. Ransome's
appearance at the table (where he sat austerely), and of her brother,
John Randall, who looked so like a military man.

And John Randall talked; he talked; it was what he had come for. He had
a right to talk. He was a member of the Borough Council, an important
man, a man (it was said of him) with "ideas." He was a Liberal; and so,
for that matter, was Mr. Ransome. Both were of the good, safe middle
class, and took the good, safe, middle line.

They sat there; the Nottingham lace curtains veiled them from the gazes
of the street, but their voices, raised in discussion, could be most
distinctly heard; for the window was a little open, letting in the
golden afternoon. They sat and drank tea and abused the Tory Government.
Not any one Tory Government, but all Tory Governments. Mr. Ransome said
that all Tory Governments were bad. Mr. Randall, aiming at precision,
said he wouldn't say they were bad so much as stupid, cowardly, and
dishonest. Stupid, because they were incapable of the ideas the Liberals
had. Cowardly, because they let the Liberals do all the fighting for
ideas. Dishonest, because they stole the ideas, purloined 'em, carried
them out, and sneaked the credit.

And when Ranny asked if it mattered who got the credit provided they
_were_ carried out, Mr. Randall replied sol