e as well as of difficulty. Point by point was taken and
lunch-time arrived without a complete elucidation. Lloyd George swept
aside all other appointments for the day. The thing had got to be
mastered. He took the six experts out with him to lunch and went on
with the discussion over the meal. He brought them back to the
Munition Department afterward and he went on with the matter all the
afternoon. Tea was served, and still he would not let his advisers
escape. It was nearly dinner-time before the difficulties were
conquered and the tired experts were permitted to go. Lloyd George,
cheered by the achievement, had a little food, and then proceeded to
work far into the night to clear up some of the arrears of the day's
routine. As for the staff, they had to work, too. There are no easy
times for those associated with Lloyd George when he is under pressure.

These are examples from recent times, but throughout the whole of his
career there have been contradictions which have staggered friends as
well as enemies. I do not believe there is a more sincere man in
public life; there certainly is no shrewder one, and yet when he was
Chancellor of the Exchequer in charge of the finances of the country he
was imprudent enough in an impulsive moment to invest privately some
hundreds of pounds in a commercial company, an investment perfectly
innocent in itself, but one which a worldly-wise person would have
realized must lay open to attack any Chancellor of the Exchequer who
had enemies. He never gave the thing a thought. He had always been a
comparatively poor man. He saw a good investment and he put some of
his savings into it. His opponents became aware of the matter, and in
storms of virtuous passion held him up to execration as a corrupt
politician who was using his position to make himself rich. There were
bursts of unholy joy among the Conservatives. That innocent investment
in Marconi shares was perhaps the most stupid thing in Lloyd George's
public life. He gave his explanation with vigor and clearness, but,
nevertheless, I fancy he must have kicked himself privately about the
whole thing. Notwithstanding, however, the disadvantage at which he
had placed himself, opponents found that now, as on other occasions, it
was not a pleasant exercise to attack the Welshman. He had a horrid
habit of defending himself by hitting back, and he usually hit very
much harder than his attackers were capable of doing. W