"Of course they won't," said Madame Beattie.
"Then why won't they? What's your infernal spell?"
"It's the spell of the East. And you can't tempt them with anything that comes out of the West."
"Their food comes out of the West," said Jeff, smarting.
"Oh, that! Well, that's about all you can give them. That's what they come for."
"All of them? Good God!"
"Not good God at all. Don't you know what a man is led by? His belly. But they don't all come for that. Some come for—" She laughed, a rather cackling laugh.
"What?" Jeff asked her sternly. He shook her arm involuntarily.
"Freedom. That's talked about still. And a lot of demagogues like your Weedon Moore get hold of 'em and debauch 'em and make 'em drunk."
"Drunk?"