"
Well, he'd given up trying to do that....
Sec.2.
During dinner his eyes wandered furtively up and down the endless
ornate table, and he felt he had been, in a sort of way, right in
thinking these people were the handiest instrument to prise open
the national conscience with. The shining red faces of the men, the
shining white necks and arms of the women, the fearless eyes, the
general free-and-easiness and spaciousness, the look of late hours
counteracted by fresh air and exercise and the best things to eat and
drink--what mightn't be made of these people, if they'd only Submit?
Perkins looked behind them, at the solemn young footmen passing
and repassing, noiselessly, in blue and white liveries. _They_ had
Submitted. And it was just because they had been able to that they
were no good.
"Damn!" said Perkins, under his breath.
Sec.3.
One of the big conifers from the park had been erected in the hall,
and this, after dinner, was found to be all lighted up with electric
bulbs and hung with packages in tissue paper.
The Duchess stood, a bright, feral figure, distributing these packages
to the guests. Perkins' name was called out in due course and the
package addressed to him was slipped into his hand. He retired
with it into a corner.
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