It stirred a half-uneasy, half-laughing compunction.

He could not flatter himself--yet--that his cousin had forgotten it.
"What gate ?--and what threshold ?" he asked Diana, as they moved on.

"If you mean the gate of power--it is too late.

Democracy is in the citadel--and has run up its own flag.

Or to take another metaphor--the Whirlwind is in possession--the only question is who shall ride it!" Diana declared that the Socialists would ride it to the abyss--with England on the crupper.
"Magnificent!" said Marsham, "but merely rhetorical.