threw into more tragic light the possible failure of poor Roger, who was trembling like a boy.
The minutes dragged by. It was the longest quarter of an hour that any one of them had ever known. The men gathered round Roger felt almost as badly as he did. As for him, if he had been waiting to be shot he could hardly have felt worse. He had talked optimistically but not boastfully throughout the campaign, he had borne a manner considerably chastened by the difficulties in his path, personally he had waged a clean fight, and only he knew how much he hoped to win. As they stood waiting, Mrs. Benton with her lips trembling, moved beside him and put her arm through his.
After an eternity, in which no one could trust his voice to break the strained silence, the door moved and Jimmy shot through it as if he were beginning and not ending his dashes for Bob’s hand.
Almost too excited now to see, both Bob and Valerie sorted fast. She was the first to tear open one of the envelopes. It was from the country, and gave Roger a lead of forty-three. But it was Bob they all watched, and he found the last and fateful news at the bottom of his pile. There was a breathless silence, while everyone looked for a change in his expression.
But Bob did not dare to be too hopeful.
“For God’s sake,” began Bolton.
“Keep calm,” replied Bob coolly. “We mustn’t have any mistakes on this.”
He checked and rechecked. Then he bounded to his feet.
“You’re in,” he shouted. “It’s a majority for you. In by seventy-three. Hurrah! Hurrah!”
And at that moment George Rhodes came through the door with the same official final from the registrar.
