CHAPTER VI
There's something I must tell you, love,” said Agnes Huntington; “you would know all in time, and it is better that you learn it now from the lips of your Agnes.”
“What is it, beautiful one?” said Slippery Elm Benton, languidly.
The Congressional day, with its labours, had wearied our hero, and, although with the woman he loved, he still felt fatigued.
“Read this,” said Agnes, as she pushed a paper into her lover's hand, and shrank back as if frightened.
The paper made over one-half of the phosphate bed to Agnes Huntington.
“And it was for this you sold my vote in the House!” and Slippery Elm Benton laughed mockingly.
“Oh, say not so, love!” said Agnes Huntington, piteously. “Rather would I hear you curse than laugh like that!”
“And so the vote and influence of Slippery Elm Benton are basely bargained by the woman he loved for a one-half interest in a phosphate bed!”