(See Cover)
Late at night in the House of Commons, when the freshness has gone from the air, and the lights shine dully on bald pates, weariness creeps into the usually keen blue eyes of the man sitting alone on the government front bench. His blue suit crumples. The thinning blond hair is no longer so carefully brushed across the balding scalp, and every now & then he coughs chestily. He fidgets. His left hand rubs slowly over his cheeks, reaches for a handkerchief to wipe his plumpish fate. Or his right forefinger goes...
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