Here was the Dale that I knew and loved, boyish,
impetuous, slangy, enthusiastic. His dark eyes flashed, and he threw
back his head and laughed, as he enunciated his brilliant ideas for
capturing the constituency.
"When I was working for you, I made love to half the women in the place.
You never knew that, you dear old stick. Now I'm going in on my own
account I'll make love to the whole crowd. You won't mind, Lola, will
you? There's safety in numbers. And when I have made love to them one
by one I'll get 'em all together and make love to the conglomerate mass!
And then I'll rake up all the prettiest women in London and get 'em down
there to humbug the men--"
"Lady Kynnersley will doubtless be there," said I; "and I don't quite
see her--"
He broke in with a laugh: "Oh! the mater! I'll fix up her job all right.
She'll just love it, won't she? And then I know a lot of silly asses
with motor-cars who'll come down. They can't talk for cob-nuts, and
think the Local Option has something to do with vivisection, and have a
vague idea that champagne will be cheaper if we get Tariff Reform--but
they'll make a devil of a noise at meetings and tote people round the
country in their cars holding banners with 'Vote for Kynnersley' on
them.
Pages:
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183