The junior Whip hinted at his contesting a heat at a coming bye-election in the North of Ireland.

A man with his knowledge of Ireland--as he had shown that night--would be invaluable to his party.
When he left the gathering he was in a condition of ecstasy.

Lying back, amid the cushions, during his long drive home, he closed his eyes and pictured the future.

His imagination ran riot.

It took wings and flew from height to height.