Part 4 (1/2)

”You mean the first thing is that Barbara draws up the prospectus.”

”Under my supervision.”

”The next thing,” f.a.n.n.y said, ”is to conceal your prospectus from your Committee till it's in print. You come to your Committee with your prospectus. You don't offer it for discussion.”

”Supposing,” Barbara said, ”they insist on discussing it?”

”They won't,” said f.a.n.n.y, ”once it's printed, especially if it's paid for. You must get Pyecraft to send in his bill at once. And if they _do_ start discussing you can put them off with the date and place of the meeting and the wording of the posters. That'll give them something to talk about. I suppose you'll be chairman.”

”Well, I think, in the circ.u.mstances, they could hardly appoint anybody else.”

”I don't know. Somebody might suggest Sir John Corbett.”

Mr. Waddington's face sagged with dismay as f.a.n.n.y presented this unpleasant possibility.

”I don't think Sir John would care about it. I shall suggest it to him myself; but I don't think--.”

After all, Sir John Corbett was a lazy man.

”When you've roused Sir John, if you ever _do_ rouse him, then you'll have to round up all the towns and villages for twenty miles. It's a pity you can't have Ralph; he would have rounded them for you in no time on his motor-bike.”

”I am quite capable of rounding them all up myself, thank you.”

”Well, dear,” said f.a.n.n.y placably, ”it'll keep you busy for the next six months, and that'll be nice. You won't miss the war then so much, will you?”

”_Miss the war_?”

”Yes, you do miss it, darling. He was a special constable, Barbara; and he sat on tribunals; and he drove his motor-car like mad on government service. He had no end of a time. It's no use your saying you didn't enjoy it, Horatio, for you did.”

”I was glad to be of service to my country as much as any soldier, but to say that I enjoyed the war--”

”If there hadn't been a war there wouldn't have been any service to be glad about.”

”My dear f.a.n.n.y, it's a perfectly horrible suggestion. Do you mean to say that I would have brought about that--that infamous tragedy, that I would have sent thousands and thousands of our lads to their deaths to get a job for myself? If I thought for one moment that you were serious--”

”You don't like me to be anything else, dear.”

”I certainly don't like you to joke about such subjects.”

”Oh, come,” said f.a.n.n.y, ”we all enjoyed our war jobs except poor Ralph, who got ga.s.sed first thing, and _then_ concussed with a sh.e.l.l-burst.”

”Oh, did he?” said Barbara.

”He did. And don't you think, Horatio, considering the rotten time he's had, and that he lost a lucrative job through the war, and that you've done him out of his secretarys.h.i.+p, don't you think you might forgive him?”

”Of course,” said Horatio, ”I forgive him.”

He had got up to go and had reached the door when f.a.n.n.y called him back.

”And I can write and ask him to come and dine to-morrow night, can't I?

I want to be quite sure that he _does_ dine.”