At this moment EDMUNDS comes in, and, with that air of discreet tact which he considers befits the establishment of a Prime Minister, announces, “Mr. O’Connell, my lord.” As O’CONNELL follows him, HORSHAM can only try not to look too disconcerted. O’CONNELL, in his tightly buttoned frock coat, with his shaven face and close-cropped iron grey hair, might be mistaken for a Catholic priest; except that he has not also acquired the easy cheerfulness which professional familiarity with the mysteries of that religion seems to give.  For the moment, at least, his features are so impassive that they may tell either of the deepest grief or the purest indifference; or it may be, merely of reticence on entering a stranger’s room.  He only bows towards HORSHAM’S half-proffered hand.  With instinctive respect for the situation of this tragically made widower the men have risen and stand in various uneasy attitudes.

HORSHAM.  Oh ... how do you do?  Let me see ... do you know my cousin Charles Cantelupe?  Yes ... we were expecting Russell Blackborough.  Sir Henry Percival is ill.  Do sit down.

      O’CONNELL takes the nearest chair and gradually the others settle
      themselves; FARRANT seeking an obscure corner.  But there follows an
      uncomfortable silence, which O’CONNELL at last breaks.

O’CONNELL.  You have sent for me, Lord Horsham?

HORSHAM.  I hope that by my message I conveyed no impression of sending for you.

O’CONNELL.  I am always in some doubt as to by what person or persons in or out of power this country is governed.  But from all I hear you are at the present moment approximately entitled to send for me.

      The level music of his Irish tongue seems to give finer edge to his
      sarcasm.

HORSHAM.  Well, Mr. O’Connell ... you know our request before we make it.

O’CONNELL.  Yes, I understand that if the fact of Mr. Trebell’s adultery with my wife were made as public as its consequences to her must be to-morrow, public opinion would make it difficult for you to include him in your cabinet.

HORSHAM.  Therefore we ask you ... though we have no right to ask you ... to consider the particular circumstances and forget the man in the statesman, Mr. O’Connell.

O’CONNELL.  My wife is dead.  What have I to do at all with Mr. Trebell as a man?  As a statesman I am in any case uninterested in him.

      Upon this throwing of cold water, EDMUNDS returns to mention even
      more discreetly....

EDMUNDS.  Mr. Blackborough is in the library, my lord.

HORSHAM. [Patiently impatient.] No, no ... here.

WEDGECROFT.  Let me go.

HORSHAM. [To the injured EDMUNDS.] Wait ... wait.

WEDGECROFT.  I’ll put him au fait. I shan’t come back.