Indiana -- Fiction; Love stories; Political corruption -- Fiction; Women -- Social and moral questions -- Fiction; Women lawyers -- Fiction
"It is true!" she cried. "All unintentionally I have followed one of
the oldest of police expedients. I have suddenly confronted the
criminal with his crime, and I have surprised his guilt upon his
face!"
"What you say is absurd. I can explain it only on the theory that you
are quite out of your mind."
"Never before was I so much in it!"
In this moment when she felt that the hidden enemy she had striven so
long to find was at last revealed to her, she felt more of anguish
than of triumph.
"Oh, how could you do such a thing, Mr. Blake?" she burst out. "How
could you do it?"
He shook his head, and tried to smile at her perversity--but the smile
was a wan failure.
"I see--I see!" she cried in her pain. "It is just the old story. A
good man rises to power through being the champion of the people--and,
once in power, the opportunities, the temptation, are too much for
him. But I never--no, never!--thought that such a thing would happen
with you!"
He strove for the injured air of the misjudged old friend.
"Again I must say that I can only explain your charges by supposing
that you are out of your head."
"Here in Westville you believe it is not woman's business to think
about politics," Katherine went on, in her voice of pain. "But I could
not help thinking about them, and watching them. I have lost my faith
in the old parties, but I had kept my faith in some of their leaders.
I believe some of them honest, devoted, indomitable. And of them all,
the one I admired most, ranked highest, was you. And now--and now--oh,
Mr. Blake!--to learn that you----"
"Katherine! Katherine!" And he raised his hands with the manner of
exasperated, yet indulgent, helplessness.
"Mr. Blake, you know you are now only playing a part! And you know
that I know it!" She moved up to him eagerly. "Listen to me," she
pleaded rapidly. "You have only started on this, you have not gone too
far to turn back. You have done no real wrong as yet, save to my
father, and I know my father will forgive you. Drop your plan--let my
father be honourably cleared--and everything will be just as before!"
For a space he seemed shaken by her words. She watched him,
breathless, awaiting the outcome of the battle she felt was waging
within him.
"Drop the plan--do!--do!--I beg you!" she cried.
His dark face twitched; a quivering ran through his body. Then by a
mighty effort he partially regained his mastery.
"There is no plan for me to drop," he said huskily.
"You still cling to the part you are playing?"
"I am playing no part; you are all wrong about me," he continued.
"Your charges are so absurd that it would be foolish to deny them.
They are merely the ravings of an hysterical woman."
"And this is your answer?"
"That is my answer."
She gazed at him for a long moment. Then she sighed.
"I'm so sorry!" she said; and she turned away and moved toward the
door.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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