“At least my dream is a dream,” Virginia laughed, “yours a silly nightmare. But I give you up for the present. I see that Ephraim is joined to his idols. My mission is a failure. At least I thank you for your candor. I shall have to turn you over now to the tender mercies of Mr. Waldron and the Executive Committee. Come, we’ll see your flags and the children. The sight will be restful after our battle.” She rose quickly, led the way to the hall, adjusted the little turban on the mass of auburn blond hair and opened the door. Vassar passed out with a queer sense of defeat. He had vanquished her in the argument. But the trouble was she had not argued. She had merely demanded his submission without argument. CHAPTER IX Another thing that had upset Vassar’s equanimity was the baffling quality of Virginia Holland’s character. The more honestly he had tried to approach her in friendly compromise the more bristling her mental resistance had become. She held him at arms’ length personally. He was surprised at her final decision to go to the Armory. No doubt only an uncompromising honesty had caused her to fulfil a promise. Clearly she was bored. As a matter of fact she was anything but bored. She was lashing herself at every step with reproaches at her idiotic inconsistency in accompanying an East Side politician on a fool’s errand. No doubt the whole thing was a scheme to pose before enraptured constituents. Why had she consented to come? She asked herself the question a hundred times and finally accepted the weak lie that she was studying his eccentricities to make his defeat the more sure. With each moment of her association she had become more and more clearly conscious of his charm. Its strength and its antagonism were equally appealing. It would be sweet to demonstrate her own power in his defeat at the polls and then make up to him by confessing her admiration. She began to receive striking evidence of his popularity. At every street-corner and from almost every door came a friendly nod or wave of a hand. Schultz, the fat German who kept a delicatessen store on the corner, waved to him from the doorway. “Mein Frau und der kids--all dere, gov’ner. I vish I could be!” On the next block Brodski gripped his hand and whispered a word of cheer. “They all seem to know you down here, Mr. Congressman,” Virginia laughed. “Yes, it’s my only hope--if we fight--” “You’ll need help if we do,” she answered quietly. He didn’t like the tone of menace in her words. There was no bluster about it. There was a ring of earnestness that meant business. “Perhaps I’m going to win you to my cause before you know it,” he ventured. “I’m going to show you something today that’s really worth while--” “Meaning, of course,” she interrupted, “that the cause in which I am at present expending my thought and energy is not worth while--” “I didn’t say that!” he protested. “And I most humbly apologize if I implied as much--”