He began slowly to pit against his former startling admissions the testimony of his few principles, and to buttress them on every side with apposite observations, naive, pungent.

Presently there came a poignant edge to his trailing tones.

After giving the subject new points of view, showing him to have studied Whitechapel as well as Kicking Horse Pass, he contended that no social problem could be solved by a bill so crudely radical, so impractical.
He was saying: "In the history of the British Parliament--" when some angry member cried out, "Who coached you ?" Gaston's quick eye found the man.
"Once," he answered instantly, "one honourable gentleman asked that of another in King Charles's Parliament, and the reply then is mine now--'You, sir!'" "How ?" returned the puzzled member.
Gaston smiled: "The nakedness of the honourable gentleman's mind!" The game was in his hands.

Lord Faramond twisted a shoulder with satisfaction, tossed a whimsical look down the line of the Treasury Bench, and from that Bench came unusual applause.
"Where the devil did he get it ?" queried a Minister.
"Out on the buffalo-trail," replied Lord Faramond.

"Good fellow!" In the Ladies Gallery, Delia clasped her mother's hand with delight; in the Strangers Gallery, a man said softly, "Not so bad, Cadet." Alice Wingfield's face had a light of aching pleasure.