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 bold enough to falsify them. And you shall see one falsified to-night."

"What in the world are you going to do?" she asked.

He laughed suddenly. "The first thing to do," he cried, swinging round with a new air of resolution and even cheerfulness, "the very first thing to do is to Vote For Hunter. Or, at any rate, help to get him into Parliament."

"But why in the world," she asked wondering, "should you want so much to get Dr. Hunter into Parliament?"

"Well, one must do something," he said with an appearance of easy good sense, "to celebrate the occasion. We must do something; and after all he must go somewhere, poor devil. You will say, why not throw him into the river? It would relieve the feelings and make a splash. But I'm going to make something much bigger than a splash. Besides, I don't want him in my nice river. I'd much rather pick him up and throw him all the way to Westminster. Much more sensible and suitable. Obviously there ought to be a brass band and a torchlight procession somewhere to-night; and why shouldn't be have a bit of the fun?"

He stopped suddenly as if surprised at his own words: for indeed his own phrase had