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“I believe,” he said, “that you mean me to be Prime Minister. To be ill and helpless. ” “Impudent beggars,” Sydney growled. I won't dig their graves with my nails. ” “Of course,” he said, reaching out his hand tentatively for his hat, “I could go away even now. She had all the fascination of being absolutely perplexing in this respect. Her cheeks flushed a dull red. ’ ‘Merci,’ she sighed and, surrendering at last to his oft-proffered aid, allowed her head to droop onto his chest. And he who opposes me in it shall feel the weight of my hand.

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