I said. “And so you will throw aside all the beginnings, all the beliefs and pledges—” Again her sentence remained incomplete. “I doubt if even, once you have gone over, they will welcome you.”
“That hardly matters.”
I made an effort to resume my speech.
“I came into Parliament, Margaret,” I said, “a little prematurely. Still—I suppose it was only by coming into Parliament that I could see things as I do now in terms of personality and imaginative range....” I stopped. Her stiff, unhappy, unlistening silence broke up my disquisition.
“After all,” I remarked, “most of this has been implicit in my writings.”
She made no sign of admission.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
“Keep my seat for a time and make the reasons of my breach clear. Then either I must resign or—probably this new Budget will lead to a General Election. It's evidently meant to strain the Lords and provoke a quarrel.”