as got wind of me. You think I've just happened because of too much
electricity in the air, like a thunderbolt or something; but you haven't
even looked back to find out whether you are right or wrong. Talk about
public spirit! Why, there isn't an ounce of live public spirit left
among you, in spite of all the moonshine your man Benham talks about the
healing virtues of tradition and the sacred taboo of your political
Pharisees. There wasn't one of you that didn't hate like the devil to
see me Governor of Virginia--and yet how many of you took the trouble to
find out what I am made of, or to understand what I mean? Did you even
take the trouble to go to the polls and vote against me?"

Though Stephen flushed scarlet, he held his ground bravely. It was true
that he had not voted--he hated the whole sordid business of
politics--but then, who had ever suspected for a minute that Gideon
Vetch would be elected? His brief liking for the man had changed
suddenly to exasperation. It seemed incredible to him that any Governor
of Virginia should display so open a disregard of the ordinary rules of
courtesy and hospitality. To drag in their political differences at such
a time, when he had come beneath the other's roof merely to render him
an unavoidable service! To stoop to the pettifogging sophistry of the
agitator simply because his opponent had reluctantly yielded him an
opportunity!

"Well, I heard you speak, but that didn't change me!" he retorted with a
smile.

The Governor laughed, and the sincerity of his amusement was evident
even to Stephen. "Could anything short of a blasting operation change
you traditional Virginians?" he inquired.