"Wiles, tricks, stratagems," replied the rising young diplomat moodily,
smarting under the moment's defeat.

"Serve him right for pulling all that old-fashioned nonsense," said Miss
Sheridan, and accorded her employer a glance in which admiration for his
prowess was not half concealed.

"The words of a fool wise in his own folly," went on the encouraged Mr.
Evans, and then, alas! a victim to the slight oratorical thrill these words
brought him,--"honestly uttering what every last man believes and feels
about woman in his heart and yet what no sane man running for office can
say in public--here, what's the matter?"

The latter clause had been evoked by the sight of a blazing Miss Sheridan,
who now stood over him with fists tightly clenched. "Oh, oh, oh!" This
was low, tense, thrilling. It expressed horror. "So that's what your
convictions amount to! Then you do applaud him, every word of him, and you
were deceiving me. Every man in his own heart, indeed. Thank heaven I found
you out in time!"

It may be said that Mr. Evans now cowered in his chair. The term is not too
violent. He ventured to lift a hand in weak protest.

"No, no, Betty, you are being unjust to me again. I meant that that was
what Martin Jaffry told me this morning. It isn't what I believe at all. I
tell you my own deepest sentiments are exactly what yours are in this great
cause which--which--"