"
"To-morrow's meeting," Furley observed, "will show how far you are
right in your views. I consider my position, and the Bishop's, as
members of the Labour Party, on a par with your own. I will go
further and say that the very soul of our Council is embodied in
the teachings and the writings of Paul Fiske, or, as we now know
him to be, Julian Orden."
Fenn rose to his feet. He was trembling with passion.
"This informal meeting is adjourned," he announced harshly.
Cross himself did not move.
"Adjourned or not it may be, Mr. Fenn," he said, "but it's no
place of yours to speak for it. You've thrust yourself into that
chair, but that don't make you chairman, now or at any other
time."
Fenn choked down the words which had seemed to tremble on his
lips. His enemies he knew, but there were others here who might
yet be neutral.
"If I have assumed more than I should have done, I am sorry," he
said. "I brought you news which I was in a hurry to deliver. The
rest followed."
The little company rose to their feet and moved towards the door,
exchanging whispered comments concerning the news which Catherine
had brought. She herself crossed the room and confronted Fenn.
"There is still something to be said about that news," she
declared.
Fenn's attempt at complete candour was only partially convincing.
"There is not the slightest reason," he declared, "why anything
concerning Julian Orden should be concealed from any member of the
Council who desires information.
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