If it isn't, she would have us at her mercy; and
it's too big a risk to run. You live in the same house with him, don't
you? Do you often see him?"

"Not often," she answered.

He was reading a letter. "You were dining there on Friday night, weren't
you?" he asked her, without looking up.

Joan flushed. What did he mean by cross-examining her in this way? She
was not at all used to impertinence from the opposite sex.

"Your information is quite correct," she answered.

Her anger betrayed itself in her tone; and he shot a swift glance at her.

"I didn't mean to offend you," he said. "A mutual friend, a Mr. Airlie,
happened to be of the party, and he mentioned you."

He threw aside the letter. "I'll tell you what I want you to do," he
said. "It's nothing to object to. Tell him that you've seen me and had
a talk. I understand his scheme to be that the country should grow more
and more food until it eventually becomes self-supporting; and that the
Government should control the distribution. Tell him that with that I'm
heart and soul in sympathy; and would like to help him." He pushed aside
a pile of papers and, leaning across the desk, spoke with studied
deliberation. "If he can see his way to making his policy dependent upon
Protection, we can work together."

"And if he can't?" suggested Joan.

He fixed his large, colourless eyes upon her. "That's where you can help
him," he answered. "If he and I combine forces, we can pull this through
in spite of the furious opposition that it is going to arouse. Without a
good Press he is helpless; and where is he going to get his Press backing
if he turns me down? From half a dozen Socialist papers whose support
will do him more harm than good. If he will bring the working class over
to Protection I will undertake that the Tariff Reformers and the
Agricultural Interest shall accept his Socialism. It will be a victory
for both of us.

"If he gain his end, what do the means matter?" he continued, as Joan did
not answer. "Food may be dearer; the Unions can square that by putting
up wages; while the poor devil of a farm labourer will at last get fair
treatment. We can easily insist upon that. What do you think,
yourself?"

"About Protection," she answered. "It's one of the few subjects I
haven't made up my mind about."

He laughed. "You will find all your pet reforms depend upon it, when you
come to work them out," he said. "You can't have a minimum