“Let me force one more argument upon you,” Mr. Foley continued.  “You must know a little what type of mind is most common amongst Labour.  I ask you what will be the attitude of Labour towards the starvation of the next ten or twenty years, if you should bring the ruin you threaten upon the country?  I ask you to use your common sense.  Of what use would you be?  Who would listen to you?  If they left you alive, would any audience of starving men and women, looking back upon the comparative prosperity of the past, listen to a word from your lips.  Believe me, they would not.  They would be more likely, if they found you, to rend you limb from limb.  The operatives of this country are not dreamers.  They don’t want to give their wives and children, and their own selves, body and soul, for a dream.  Therefore, I come back to the sane common sense of the whole affair.  By this time next year, if you use your power to bring destruction upon this country, your name will be loathed and detested amongst the very people for whose sake you do it.”

Maraton turned away.

“You have put some of my own fears before me, Mr. Foley,” he confessed, “in a new and very impressive light.  If I thought that I myself were the only one who could teach, you would indeed terrify me.  The doctrines in which I believe, however, will endure, even though I should pass.”

“Endure to be discarded and despised by all thinking men!” Lord Armley exclaimed.

“You may be right,” Maraton admitted, slowly.  “I cannot say.  Will you forgive me if I make you no answer at all to-night?  My thoughts are a little confused.  You have made me see myself with your eyes, and I wish to reconsider certain matters.  Before I go, perhaps you will give me ten minutes more to discuss them?”

Mr. Foley was still a little flushed as they shook hands.

“I am glad,” he declared, “very glad that you are at least going to think over what I have said.  You must have common sense.  I have read your book, backwards and forwards.  I have read your articles in the American reviews and in the English papers.  There is nothing more splendid than the visions you write of, but there is no gangway across from this world into the world of dreams, Mr. Maraton.  Remember that, and remember, too, how great your responsibility is.  I have never tried to hide from you what I believe your real power to be.  I have always said that the moment a real leader was found, the country would be in danger.  You are that leader.  For God’s sake, Mr. Maraton, realise your responsibility! . . .  Now shall we go back into the gardens or into the drawing-room?  My niece will sing to us, if you are fond of music.”