"How do you do it?" asked the man with admiration, as she reported that one particularly obdurate senator, too rich to be influenced by money, had promised his vote.
"I told him frankly that it was a personal affair," admitted the fair lobbyist. "He knows women well enough to understand why I have never been satisfied to live in this little hill city——"
"And he thought it his duty to see that your brilliancy lighted wider domains—I see." Moore finished the sentence to suit himself.
"He was very nice about it," returned Eva, haughtily. "He thinks that Arthur should have some recognition from the government for all that he has done for the party; and he added that Arthur was too big a legal light to be eclipsed by the shadow of Mount Helena." She paused, evidently hesitating to speak further. "Can't you get the others on the list yourself? I'm getting tired of——" She was shaken by the unexpected knock; suddenly, but too late, she was afraid of what her husband would think—would say. Her aspirations seemed of small account after that tap that could not be answered.
"Get Charlie Blair's promise, and we'll be satisfied," said Moore, not unkindly. "You have done very well."
"Will Mr. Burroughs keep his promise? He knows that I——" Eva could not speak to Moore of her fear of the man whose money she would accept.
"Burroughs is all right. Words don't count, these days; it's money that turns the trick."
"But I want more than money. I want that place for Arthur."
"My dear lady," urbane William rose and bowed. "If Robert Burroughs is elected to the United States Senate, the judge shall be Minister to Berlin. It is practically arranged already. Bob's a big man in his party. What he asks for he'll get, never you fear. That is—in Washington."
"I'm glad to be assured." Mrs. Latimer intimated by a look that the interview was over, and rose. But Moore did not choose to go.