I became, in fact, not the representative of the _Hour_--but an Etchingham Granger that competitive forces had compelled to accept a journalistic plum.

I began to see the line I was to take throughout my interviewing campaign.

On the one hand, I was "one of us," who had temporarily strayed beyond the pale; on the other, I was to be a sort of great author's bottle-holder.
A side door, behind Miss Churchill, opened gently.

There was something very characteristic in the tentative manner of its coming ajar.

It seemed to say: "Why any noisy vigour ?" It seemed to be propelled by a contemplative person with many things on his mind.