When David Lockwin declared his love, life became dramatic.

When David Lockwin won the primaries and carried the election, life
became useful.

When David Lockwin held the little feet of the dead foundling life
became noble. She, too, would bring from out the recesses of that
man's better nature the treasures of love which lay there. She had not
before known that she hungered and thirsted for love.

It might be the affection of a lioness. She might lick her cubs with
the tongue of a tiger, but her temperament, stirring beneath her, was
pleased.

She has a husband worthy of her worship. She who had not known that
she wanted lover's verses, wants them from David Lockwin.

She who had never been jealous of Davy, grows jealous of politics.
Yet, fearing her husband may guess her secret and despise her, she
appears more Spartan.

She nursed the man sick of brain fever and buried little Davy. She
brought her patient to his senses after nearly a month of alienation.

"Is Davy dead, Esther?" he had asked.

This was his first rational utterance.

"You are elected to Congress, David," she said. "Are you not glad?"