"I've said right along we ought to bear with you so long as you lived
and wanted to be elected."

"Like the seven years' itch, eh?"

"But you are trying to make us mere serfs in politics by dictating our
choice, and what I teach of the principles of democracy--"

Thornton tapped the little man on the shoulder.

"What they've done, Tute, is come up here with a dose to fit the palate
of every one of you fellows, and you don't know enough to understand
that you're being handled. You're going to vote against me, are you?"

"I call on this gentleman to witness that I say you're the best man for
the place. You're able, you're efficient, and you have done an immense
amount of good for your constituents, and you--"

"But you won't vote for me to-day, eh?" reiterated the old man,
pitilessly.

Mr. Tute started again on his line of fulsome praise, but the Duke
checked him brusquely.

"That will do, Professor Tute. I like cake. I like it frosted. But I'll
be d--d if I want it all frosting. Run up into the hall. Come along,
Luke. We'll miss the text if we don't get in."

The last of the stragglers followed them up the stairs.