a dozen years ago would have been reckoned rank Socialism. What we do
need to-day is a people's man in our Government. I admit our weakness.
I admit that with every desire to do the right thing, we may sometimes
err through lack of knowledge. Our great trouble is this; there is not
to-day a single man amongst the Labour Party, a single man who has come
into Parliament on the mandate of the people, whose assistance would be
of the slightest service to us. I make you an offer which you yourself
must consider a wonderful one. You come to this country as an enemy,
and I offer you my hand as a friend. I offer you not only a seat in
Parliament but a share in the counsels of my party. I ask you to teach
us how to legislate for the people of the future."

Maraton remained for a moment silent. His face betrayed no exultation.
His tone, when at last he spoke, was almost sad.

"Mr. Foley," he said, "if you are not a great man, you have in you, at
least, the elements of greatness. You have imagination. You know how
to meet a crisis. I only wish that what you suggest were possible.
Twenty years ago, perhaps, yes. To-day I fear that the time for any
legislation in which you would concur, is past."

"What have you to hope for but legislation?" Mr. Foley asked. "What
else is there but civil war?"

Maraton smiled a little grimly.

"There is what in your heart you are fearing all the time," he replied.
"There is the slow paralysis of all your manufactures, the stoppage of
your railways, the dislocation of every industry and undertaking built
upon the slavery of the people. What about your British Empire then?"