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He waited
a few seconds for silence in the audience, and then began to speak. His
voice sounded as natural and his accent as unaffected as though he were
talking alone with a friend, saving only that every syllable he uttered
was audible in the furthest gallery. Josephine leaned forward upon the red
leather cushion of the railing before her, watching and listening
intently.
She did not understand the subject well. John Harrington was a reformer,
she knew; or, to speak more accurately, he desired to be one. He believed
great changes were necessary. He believed in an established Civil Service,
in something which, if not exactly Free Trade, was much nearer to it than
the existing tariff. Above all, he believed in truth and freedom instead
of lying and bribery. As he spoke and cleared the way to his main points,
his voice never quavered or faltered. He was perfectly sure of himself,
and he reserved all his strength for the time when it should be most
required. For a quarter of an hour he proceeded, and the people sat in
dead silence before him.


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