“He couldn't have got it, anyhow. And he doesn't want it. I do, honey. I need it in my business. When the election's over you're going to marry me.” She ignored that. “I don't like the men who come here, Louis. I wish they were not friends of yours.” “Friends of mine! That bunch?” “You are always with them.” “I draw a salary for being with them, honey.” “But what do you draw a salary for?” He was immediately on the alert, but her eyes were candid and unsuspicious. “They are strikers, aren't they?” “Yes.” “Is it legal business?” “Partly that.” “Louis, is there going to be a general strike?” “There may be some bad times coming, honey.” He bent his head and kissed her hands, lying motionless in her lap. “I wish you would marry me soon. I want you. I want to keep you safe.” She drew her hands away. “Safe from what, Louis?” He sat back and looked up into her face. “You must remember, dear, that for all your theories, which are very sweet, this is a man's world, and men have rather brutal methods of settling their differences.” “And you advocate brutality?” “Well, the war was brutal, wasn't it? And you were in a white heat supporting it, weren't you? How about another war,”--he chose his words carefully--“just as reasonable and just? You've heard Doyle. You know what I mean.” “Not now!” He was amazed at her horror, a horror that made her recoil from him and push his hands away when he tried to touch her. He got up angrily and stood looking down at her, his hands in his pockets. “What the devil did you think all this talk meant?” he demanded. “You've heard enough of it.” “Does Aunt Elinor know?” “Of course.” “And she approves?” “I don't know and I don't care.” Suddenly, with one of the quick changes she knew so well, he caught her hands and drawing her to her feet, put his arms around her. “All I know is that I love you, and if you say the word I'll cut the whole business.” “You would?” He amended his offer somewhat. “Marry me, honey,” he begged. “Marry me now. Do you think I'll let anything in God's world come between us? Marry me, and I'll do more than leave them.” He was whispering to her, stroking her hair. “I'll cut the whole outfit. And on the day I go into your house as your husband I'll tell your people some things they want to know. That's a promise.” “What will they do to you?” “Your people?” “The others.” He drew himself to his full height, and laughed. “They'll try to do plenty, old girl,” he said, “but I'm not afraid of them, and they know it. Marry me, Lily,” he urged. “Marry me now. And we'll beat them out, you and I.” He gave her a sense of power, over him and over evil. She felt suddenly an enormous responsibility, that of a human soul waiting to be uplifted and led aright. “You can save me, honey,” he whispered, and kneeling suddenly, he kissed the toe of her small shoe. He was strong. But he was weak too. He needed her. “I'll do it, Louis,” she said. “You--you will be good to me, won't you?”