Doolittle scratched his head, wrestling with thought. "We was thinking that if she could be called away suddenly, and detained till after election--" he began meaningly. "You mean----" "Something like that." "I won't have it, not if I lose the election. I won't stoop to kidnapping a woman like a highwayman. What do you take me for, Doolittle?" "Georgie, politics ain't no kid-glove bizness. It ain't what _you_ want; you're jest a small part of this affair. You're _our_ candidate, and we _got_ to win this here election. Do you get me?" He shot out his underjaw, and there was no sign of his usual good humor. "Well, but----" "You don't have to know anything about this. We'll handle it. You'll be pertected to the limit; don't you worry," sneered Noonan. "But you can't get away with this old-fashioned stuff nowadays, Doolittle," protested Remington. "Can't we? You jest leave it to your Uncle Benjamin. You don't know nothing about this. See?" "I know it's a dirty, low, underhanded----" "George," remarked Mr. Doolittle, slowly hoisting his big body on to its short legs, "in politics we don't call a spade a spade. We call it 'a agricultural implument.'" With this sage remark Mr. Doolittle took his departure, followed by the other prominent citizens. George sat where they left him, head in hands, for several moments. Then he sprang up and rushed to the door to call them back. He would not stand it--he would not win at that price. He had conceded everything they had demanded of him up to this point, but here he drew the line. Ever since that one independent fling of his about suffrage they had treated him like a naughty child. What did they think he was--a rubber doll? He would telephone Doolittle that he would rather give up his candidacy. Here he paused. Suppose he did withdraw, nobody would understand. The town would think the women had frightened him off. He couldn't come out now and denounce the machine methods of his party. Every eye in Whitewater was focused on him; his friends were working for him; the district attorneyship was the next step in his career; Genevieve expected him to win--no, he must go through with it! But after he got into office, then he would show them! He would take orders from no one. He sat down again and moodily surveyed the future. In the days which followed, another mental struggle was taking place in the Remington family. Poor Genevieve was like a woman struck by lightning. She felt that her whole structure of life had crashed about her ears. In one blinding flash she had seen and condemned George because he considered political expediency. She realized that she must think for herself now and not rely on him for the family celebration. She had conceived her whole duty in life to consist in being George's wife; but now, by a series of accidents, she had become aware of the great social responsibilities, the larger human issues, which men and women must meet together.