guers of Hoxton firmly believed this. They encouraged one another to
positive hatred of the working man who had suddenly become wealthy;
his name stank in their nostrils. This, in a great measure, explained
Comrade Roodhouse's success; personal feeling is almost always the
spring of public action among the uneducated. In the excitement of
the schism a few of the more energetic spirits had determined to drag
Richard's domestic concerns into publicity. They suddenly became aware
that private morality was at the root of the general good; they urged
each other to righteous indignation in a matter for which they did not
really care two straws. Thus Mr. Cowes's question was received with
vociferous approval. Those present who did not understand the allusion
were quickly enlightened by their neighbours. A crowd of Englishmen
working itself into a moral rage is as glorious a spectacle as the world
can show. Not one of these men but heartily believed himself justified
in reviling the traitor to his class, the betrayer of confiding
innocence. Remember, too, how it facilitates speech to have a concrete
topic on which to enlarge; in this matter a West End drawing-room and
the Hoxton coffee-shop are akin. Regularity of procedure was at an end;
question grew to debate, and debate was riot. Mr. Cullen succeeded Mr.
Cowes and roared himself hoarse, defying the feeble protests of the
chairman. He abandoned mere allusion, and rejoiced the meeting by
declaring names. His example was followed by those who succeeded him.

Little did Emma think, as she sat working, Sunday though it was, in her
poor room, that her sorrows were being blared forth to a gross assembly
in venomous accusation against the man who had wronged her. We can
imagine that the knowledge would not greatly have soothed her.

Comrade Roodhouse at length obtained a hearing. It was his policy to
deprecate these extreme personalities, and in doing so he heaped on
the enemy greater condemnation. There was not a little art in the
heresiarch's modes of speech; the less obtuse appreciated him and bade
him live for ever. The secretary of the branch busily took notes.

When the meeting had broken up into groups, a number of the more
prominent Socialists surrounded Comrade Roodhouse on the platform. Their
talk was still of Mutimer, of his shameless hypocrisy, his greed, his
infernal arrogance. Near at hand stood Mr. Keene; a word brought him
into conversation with a neighbour. He beg