Army Corps, the Permanent Commissioner of Fine Arts, and a Bishop—a Bishop who really counted."
He paused for breath, and he emphasised his words slowly as he leant back again.
"Do you know, Higginson, that Leonard Barclay was the man who let Lord Cowfold leave the country? "
"What!" said the astonished and provincial Professor. "What do you mean? … Lord Cowfold?—why, he was at Ormeston only last May opening the Bulldog Club."
"Well, he 's in Assisi now," said Babcock grimly, "Assisi in Italy; and he can thank Leonard Barclay that he 's not in Dartmoor—Dartmoor in Devonshire. Lord, man, you 're in luck!"
"But I don't understand," began Professor Higginson, and then he was silent.
"Well, then, I 'll tell you," said Babcock, gloating in triumph, "though it 's difficult to believe you! The Research Club is Bakewell and the Prime Minister and Fittleworth and Capley and about twenty more like that, and when you talk before it, you don't only talk before it, Higginson, you talk before anything that counts in Europe and happens to be in England at the time."
