reasonably have wished; yes, and more. The bond (there was a bond, after
all!) which united them was unbreakable. They had forged it together.
The future would take care of itself.

The range of the conversation upon which they at length embarked was a
tacit acknowledgment of a relationship which now united four persons who,
six months before, would have believed themselves to have had nothing
in common. And it was characteristic of the new interest that it
transcended the limits of the parish of St. John's, touched upon the
greater affairs to which that parish--if their protest prevailed--would
now be dedicated. Not that the church was at once mentioned, but subtly
implied as now enlisted,--and emancipated henceforth from all
ecclesiastical narrowness . . . . The amazing thing by which Hodder
was suddenly struck was the naturalness with which Alison seemed to fit
into the new scheme. It was as though she intended to remain there, and
had abandoned all intention of returning to the life which apparently she
had once permanently and definitely chosen....

Bedloe Hubbell's campaign was another topic. And Phil had observed,
with the earnestness which marked his more serious statements, that it
wouldn't surprise him if young Carter, Hubbell's candidate for mayor,
overturned that autumn the Beatty machine.

"Oh, do you think so!" Alison exclaimed with exhilaration.

"They're frightened and out of breath," said Phil, "they had no idea
that Bedloe would stick after they had licked him in three campaigns.
Two years ago they tried to buy him off by offering to send him to the
Senate, and Wallis Plimpton has never got through his head to this why
he refused."