her into another atmosphere, an atmosphere far removed from this lonely spot upon the moors.  She seemed to catch from those printed lines some faint, reflective thrill of the more vital world of strife in which he was living.  For a moment the roar of London was in her ears.  She saw the lighted thoroughfares, the crowded pavements, the faces of the men and women, all a little strained and eager, so different from the placid immobility of the world in which she lived.  She rose to her feet and moved restlessly about the room.  Presently she lifted the curtain and looked out.  There was a pause in the storm and a great mass of black clouds had just been driven past the face of the watery moon.  Even the wind seemed to be holding its breath, but so far as she could see, moors and hillsides were wrapped in one unending mantle of snow.  There was no visible sign of any human habitation, no sound from any of the birds or animals who were cowering in their shelters, not even a sheep hell or the barking of a dog to break the profound silence.  She dropped the curtain and turned back to her chair.  Her feet were leaden and her heart was heavy.  The struggle of the day was at an end.  Memory was asserting itself.  She felt the flush in her cheek, the quickening heat of her heart, the thrill of her pulses as she lived again through those few wild minutes.  There was no longer any escape from the wild, confusing truth.  The thing which she had dreaded had come.

CHAPTER V

The most popular hostess in London was a little thrilled at the arrival of the moment for which she had planned so carefully.  She laid her hand on Tallente’s arm and led him towards a comparatively secluded corner of the winter garden which made her own house famous.  “I must apologise, Mrs. Van Fosdyke,” he said, “for my late appearance.  I travelled up from Devonshire this afternoon and found snow all the way.  We were nearly two hours late.”

“It is all the more kind of you to have turned out at all, then,” she told him warmly.  “I don’t mind telling you that I should have been terribly disappointed if you had failed me.  It has been my one desire for months to have you three—­the Prime Minister, Lethbridge and you—­under my roof at the same time.”

“You find politics interesting over here?” Tallente asked, a little curiously.

She flashed a quick glance at him.

“Why, I find them absolutely fascinating,” she declared.  “The whole thing is so incomprehensible.  Just look at to-night.  Half of Debrett is represented here, practically the whole of the diplomats, and yet, except yourself, not a single member of the political party who we are told will be ruling this country within a few months.  The very anomaly of it is so fascinating.”

“There is no necessary kinship between Society and politics,” Tallente reminded her.  “Your own country, for instance.”

Mrs. Van Fosdyke, who was an American, shrugged her shoulders.