I have asked only Miss Miall and Miller to meet you--just the trio of us who came to lure you out of your Devonshire paradise." "Miller ?" Tallente repeated, with instant comprehension.
"Yes! I was thinking, only the other day, that you scarcely see enough of Miller." "I see all that I want to," was Tallente's candid comment.
Dartrey laid his hand upon his guest's shoulder.

In his sombre dinner garb, with low, turned-down collar and flowing black tie, his grey-black beard cut to a point, his high forehead, his straightly brushed-back hair, which still betrayed its tendency to natural curls, he looked a great deal more like an artist of the dreamy and aesthetic type than a man who had elaborated a new system of life and government.
"It is because of the feeling behind those words, Tallente," he said, "that I have asked you to meet him here to-night.

Miller has his objectionable points, but he possesses still a great hold upon certain types of the working man.

I feel that you should appreciate that a little more thoroughly.

The politician, as you should know better than I, has no personal feelings." "The politician is left with very few luxuries," Tallente replied, with a certain grimness.
Nora was announced, brilliant and gracious in a new dinner gown which she frankly confessed had ruined her, and close behind her Miller, a little ungainly in his overlong dress coat and badly arranged white tie.
It struck Tallente that he was aware of the object of the meeting and his manner, obviously intended to be ingratiating, had still a touch of self-conscious truculence.
They went into dinner, a few minutes later, and their host's tact in including Nora in the party was at once apparent.