studies, an object-lesson, to bring her "more closely in touch" (as
Farwell would say) with the realities he had to contend with. I was
one of the "evils of politics," because I knew how to control a few
wards, and get out the darkey vote almost as well as Gorgett. Gorgett
would have been better, but Farwell couldn't very easily get at him.

I had to sit there for a little while, of course, like a ninny between
them; and I wasn't the more comfortable because I thought Knowles
looked like a bigger fool than I did. Bella's presence seemed to
excite him to a kind of exaltation; he had a dark flush on his face
and his eyes were large and shiny.

I got out as soon as I could, naturally, wondering what my wife would
say if she knew; and while I was fumbling around among the
knick-knacks and fancy things in the hall for my hat and coat, I heard
Farwell get up and cross the room to a chair nearer Bella, and then
she said, in a sort of pungent whisper, that came out to me
distinctly:

"My knight!" That's what she called him. "My knight!" That's what she
said.

I don't know whether I was more disgusted with myself for hearing, or
with old Buskirk who spent his whole time frittering around the club
library, and let his daughter go in for the sort of soulliness she was
carrying on with Farwell Knowles.

* * * * *

Trouble in our ranks began right away. Our nominee knew too much, and