Steel. [Still breathless and agitated] We were here—­he slipped away from me somehow.  He must have gone straight down to the House.  I ran over, but when I got in under the Gallery he was speaking already.  They expected something—­I never heard it so still there.  He gripped them from the first word—­deadly—­every syllable.  It got some of those fellows.  But all the time, under the silence you could feel a—­sort of—­of—­current going round.  And then Sherratt—­I think it was—­began it, and you saw the anger rising in them; but he kept them down—­his quietness!  The feeling!  I’ve never seen anything like it there.

Then there was a whisper all over the House that fighting had begun.  And the whole thing broke out—­regular riot—­as if they could have killed him.  Some one tried to drag him down by the coat-tails, but he shook him off, and went on.  Then he stopped dead and walked out, and the noise dropped like a stone.  The whole thing didn’t last five minutes.  It was fine, Mrs. More; like—­like lava; he was the only cool person there.  I wouldn’t have missed it for anything—­it was grand!

     More has appeared on the terrace, behind steel.

Katherine.  Good-night, Mr. Steel.

Steel. [Startled] Oh!—­Good-night!

     He goes out into the hall.  Katherine picks up olive’s shoes,
     and stands clasping them to her breast.  More comes in.

Katherine.  You’ve cleared your conscience, then!  I didn’t think you’d hurt me so.

     More does not answer, still living in the scene he has gone
     through, and Katherine goes a little nearer to him.

Katherine.  I’m with the country, heart and soul, Stephen.  I warn you.

     While they stand in silence, facing each other, the footman,
     Henry, enters from the hall.

Footman.  These notes, sir, from the House of Commons.

Katherine. [Taking them] You can have the room directly.

     [The footman goes out.]

More.  Open them!

     Katherine opens one after the other, and lets them fall on the
     table.

More.  Well?

Katherine.  What you might expect.  Three of your best friends.  It’s begun.

More.  ’Ware Mob! [He gives a laugh] I must write to the Chief.

     Katherine makes an impulsive movement towards him; then quietly
     goes to the bureau, sits down and takes up a pen.

Katherine.  Let me make the rough draft. [She waits] Yes?

More. [Dictating]

“July 15th.

“Dear sir Charles, After my speech to-night, embodying my most unalterable convictions [Katherine turns and looks up at him, but he is staring straight before him, and with a little movement of despair she goes on writing] I have no alternative but to place the resignation of my Under-Secretaryship in your hands.  My view, my faith in this matter may be wrong—­but I am surely right to keep the flag of my faith flying.  I imagine I need not enlarge on the reasons——­”