"You are
a fine man, David Broderick," she said, "brave and wonderful and strong.
Why do you stoop to--"
"To petty politics?" his answering smile was rueful. "Because I must--to
gain my ends. To climb a hill-top often one must go into a valley.
That is life."
"No, that is sophistry," her clear, straight glance was on him
searchingly. "You tell me that a statesman must be first a politician;
that a politician must consort with rowdies, ballot-box stuffers,
gamblers--even thieves. David Broderick, you're wrong. Women have their
intuitions which are often truer than men's logic." She leaned forward,
laid a hand half shyly on his arm. "I know this much, my friend: As
surely as you climb your ladder with the help of evil forces, just so
surely will they pull you down."
It was thus that Benito came upon them. "Scolding Dave again?" He
questioned merrily, "What has our Lieutenant-Governor been doing now?"
"Consorting with rowdies, gamblers, ballot-box stuffers--not to mention
thieves, 'twould seem," said Broderick with a forced laugh. Alice
Windham's eyes looked hurt. "He has accused himself," she said
with haste.
"You're always your own worst critic, Dave," Benito said.
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