He mused.

‘You’ll write and tell your mother?’

‘Yes.’

’Don’t say anything about the money.  You haven’t done yet, I suppose?’

‘No.’

’Better not That’s our own business.  You can just say you’re more comfortable.  Of course,’ he added, ’there’s no secret.  I shall let people understand in time that I am carrying out the wishes of a Socialist friend.  That’s simple enough.  But there’s no need to talk about it just yet.  I must get fairly going first.’

His face gathered light as he proceeded.

’Ah, now I’ll do something! see if I don’t.  You see, the fact of the matter is, there are some men who are cut out for leading in a movement, and I have the kind of feeling—­well, for one thing, I’m readier at public speaking than most.  You think so, don’t you?’

Adela was sewing together some chintzes.  She kept her eyes closely on the work.

‘Yes, I think so.’

‘Now the first thing I shall get done,’ her husband pursued, a little disappointed that she gave no warmer assent, ’is that book, “My Work at New Wanley.”  The Union ’ll publish it.  It ought to have a good sale in Belwick and round about there.  You see I must get my name well known; that’s everything.  When I’ve got that off hand, then I shall begin on the East End.  I mean to make the East End my own ground.  I’ll see if something can’t be done to stir ’em up.  I haven’t quite thought it out yet.  There must be some way of getting them to take an interest in Socialism.  Now we’ll see what can be done in twelve months.  What’ll you bet me that I don’t add a thousand members to the Union in this next year?’

‘I dare say you can.’

’There’s no “dare say” about it.  I mean to!  I begin to think I’ve special good luck; things always turn out right in the end.  When I lost my work because I was a Socialist, then came Wanley.  Now I’ve lost Wanley, and here comes five hundred a year for ten years!  I wonder who that poor fellow may be?  I suppose he’ll die soon, and then no doubt we shall hear his name.  I only wish there were a few more like him.’

‘The East End!’ he resumed presently.  ’That’s my ground.  I’ll make the East End know me as well as they know any man in England.  What we want is personal influence.  It’s no use asking them to get excited about a movement; they must have a man.  Just the same in bourgeois politics.  It isn’t Liberalism they care for; it’s Gladstone.  Wait and see!’

He talked for three hours, at times as if he were already on the platform before a crowd of East Enders who were shouting, ’Mutimer for ever!’ Adela fell into physical weariness; at length she with difficulty kept her eyes open.  His language was a mere buzzing in her ears; her thoughts were far away.