She smiled. "It isn't proper for a well-brought-up girl to love until she is loved, is it?" Her expression gave Grant a faint suggestion of a chill of apprehension lest she should be about to take advantage of their friendship by making a dead set for him. But she speedily tranquilized him by saying: "No, my reason was that I didn't want to spoil my one friendship. Even a business person craves the luxury of a friend--and marrying has been my business," this with a slight curl of her pretty, somewhat cruel mouth. "To be quite frank, I gave you up as a possibility years ago. I saw I wasn't your style. Your tastes in women are rather--coarse." Arkwright flushed. "I do like 'em a bit noisy and silly," he admitted. "That sort is so--so GEMUTHLICH, as the Germans say." "Who's the man you delivered over to old Patsy Raymond? I see he's still fast to her." "Handsome, isn't he?" "Of a sort." "It's Craig--the Honorable Joshua Craig--Assistant TO the Attorney-General. He's from Minnesota. He's the real thing. But you'd not like him." "He looks quite--tame, compared to what he was two years or so ago," said Rita, her voice as indolent as her slowly-moving eagle feathers. "Oh, you've met him?" "No--only saw him. When I went West with the Burkes, Gus and the husband took me to a political meeting--one of those silly, stuffy gatherings where some blatant politician bellows out a lot of lies, and a crowd of badly-dressed people listen and swallow and yelp. Your friend was one of the speakers. What he said sounded--" Rita paused for a word. "Sounded true," suggested Grant. "Not at all. Nobody really cares anything about the people, not even themselves. No, it sounded as if he had at least half-convinced himself, while the others showed they were lying outright. We rather liked him--at the safe distance of half the hall. He's the kind of man that suggests--menageries--lions--danger if the bars break." "How women do like that in a man!" "Do you know him?" "Through and through. He's a fraud, of course, like all politicians. But beneath the fraud there's a man--I think--a great, big man, strong and sure of himself--which is what can't be said of many of us who wear trousers and pose as lords of creation." The girl seemed to have ceased to listen, was apparently watching the dancers, Arkwright continued to gaze at his friend, to admire the impressive, if obviously posed, effect of his handsome head and shoulders. He smiled with a tender expression, as one smiles at the weakness of those one loves. Suddenly he said: "By Jove, Rita--just the thing!" "What?" asked the girl, resuming the languid waving of her eagle fan. "Marry him--marry Josh Craig. He'll not make much money out of politics. I doubt if even a woman could corrupt him that far. But you could take him out of politics and put him in the law. He could roll it up there. The good lawyers sell themselves dear nowadays, and he'd make a killing." "This sounds interesting."